Not All Dark Witches are Death Eaters Part Two
by Ryua Malfoy
Summary: Rated for violence, death. Ryua's reached her fifth year, and it's turning out worse than ever. A teacher with a personal grunge, a completely inappropriate love interest, and a personal visit from Voldemort...
1. BOOK FIVE: Lucius is Happy

Someday, I will own something of great value. This will not be Harry Potter, as J K Rowling already owns it.

This is the second section of the story. It was both getting two long, and too violent to stick with a PG-13 rating. If you want to, you may read the first section first, or just start here. If you start here, this is a summary: Ryua was raised in an abusive family, with her only real friend being her brother. She became friends with Harry, Ron, and Hermionie in the third book, and has been standing (innefectually) up to her father more and more.

Lucius is Happy

Draco looked slightly green when Ryua managed to get him conscious again, although whether it was from the spells or worry about the Dark Lord, she couldn't tell. Lucius looked downright cheerful standing at the platform, and if Narcissa was slightly pale, that was her natural state of being. In fact, he didn't even remark on his children's less-than-stellar marks, just praised them for what they did do well. The twins knew by now not to ask for trouble when they were given a free ride, so they just accepted praise and went upstairs.

It wasn't until later that night that Draco really showed any emotion about recent events. By unspoken agreement over supper, they both went to bed early, and stayed up in Ryua's room (by far the cleaner, although the house elves were supposed to clean it anyway) to talk over what had happened. "So. He's back. I never really thought about it, I mean, I knew it'd happen, I just never really expected it, you know?"

"Yeah." Ryua hugged her knees to her chest, leaning back on the headboard of her bed. "I wonder what's going to happen to us? Are we going to stay in school? Or become full-fledged Death Eaters? Maybe nothing will happen for ten years, or maybe the war starts tomorrow."

"Creepy thought. Although, this does have one really excellent effect."

"Really? I hadn't thought of any."

"Oh, come on. This is the first time Father hasn't welcomed us home with curses. He's _happy._"

Ryua sighed. "Oh, you may have a point there, but do you honestly think it'll last?"

"Last? Why wouldn't it?"

"The spells father uses on us are legal, at least to a point. The Dark Lord has no such inhibitions. Before long, even father'll be getting cursed, bad, and he'll be coming home in an incredibly foul mood. And guess who he'll take it out on?"

"Oh..." Apparently, Draco hadn't thought about that little snag.

"You're probably pretty safe, as things go. There're what, two inner-circle women? And a dozen men? And there aren't many witches even in the lower ranks. The Lord likes his wizards, thinks they're more useful. It has to be a very, very good witch to keep Him at all happy. He'd probably be endorsing father 'teaching me my place'. He'd want you to learn how to curse on me, as 'good practice', or something."

"Ouch. You really think so?"

"That's what I've puzzled out, yep."

"But you'll have no problem." At her quizzical look, he went on, "Oh, come on. You can beat me two times out of three, you positively absorb anything you read about the dark arts, and you never settle for anything less than best. By the time it's our turn, you'll have absolutely no trouble, I'm sure. And, you're close to the Gryffindors, that'll be valuable, I bet."

At that mention, Ryua felt an odd churning in her stomach. She liked her Gryffindor friends. The thought of betraying them so casually felt kind of wrong, somehow. "I don't know. It's really to early to worry about it, it's not like anything we try to do about it is going to make much of a difference to a wizard like that."

"Yeah, maybe you're right."

"Of course I'm right. So, what should we change the subject to, then?"

He grinned evilly. "What did you do to Blaise, anyway? He's been slinking around like a beaten dog, or something."

"I bit him."

"Bit him?"

"Then threatened him with the foulest, most painful death I felt like donating my energy to at that moment."

Draco smothered a giggle in one of her pillows. "Oh, I should have known you'd do something like that. But why'd you bite him, instead of hit, or kick, or curse..."

"Well, he had his tongue halfway down my throat. It was the most convenient way to cause him a lot of pain in a very short amount of time."

He got a rather disgusted look across his face. "Eww. I did not need to hear that."

"Well, you asked..."

"That doesn't mean I wanted to know... gross!"

Ryua smiled serenely. "Well, he won't ever get close enough to do it again. If he touches me, he dies."

"Hmm, just a bit bloodthirsty, are we?"

"Me? Nooo..."


	2. A Turning Point

Someday, I will own something of great value. This will not be Harry Potter, as J K Rowling already owns it.

From this point in the story forward, the rating is R. The first, second, third, and fourth books are all PG-13. Not all chapters will be that high, but I'll keep the overall rating to be safe. I'll give you a notice if it's a really bad one.

A Turning Point

Although it was still slightly disturbing, Ryua was enjoying her father's good mood. He'd come home exactly one night, or morning, it was that late, and fired curses at whichever of his family members or servants dared interrupt him. Ryua had collected one nasty welt along her side, curling onto her belly, but that was it. She was still expecting to wake up, and discover that Lucius hadn't been nice, that she was just having a dream and needed to survive the full two months of summer holidays, but July finished without a hitch.

August First, they were taken into Diagon and Knockturn alley to shop for birthday presents. Ryua knew better than to ask for a broomstick, although mother did let her look for a while. Instead, she got a fully stocked potions kit. Not the usual student one, this was the complete thing, containing everything in Snape's school cupboard, and some he probably didn't even have in his private stores. Dragons' blood, Billywig stings, Acromantula and Manticore venom, Erumpent exploding fluid, even Demiguise fur for invisibility potions. And crystal, silver, gold, and a few lead implements, because they could stand up to even the most devastating potions when used in the right orders. Mother said she could go down Knockturn to pick up some of the more shady ingredients herself; she had never been very comfortable there, even though her reputation as Lucius' wife ensured her safety.

So, Ryua was just leaving a rather well-hidden shop, having purchased and directly transported home some Acromantula fangs, her wand within easy reach, carrying no obvious wealth, and looking quite calm about killing anyone who tried to mug her. And she turned into a small side-alley, one which would bring her out just down the street from her family's floo-outlet.

There were footsteps. Which, although odd, because it wasn't a very large passage, or well used, wasn't completely unusual. People who knew these things existed used them a lot, to get quickly from one place to another, and to lose pursuers. There were a lot of pickpockets, and less gentle types in Knockturn Alley, mostly because everyone turned a blind eye, unless it affected them directly. Hence, the footsteps not quite an echo of her own were enough to make Ryua turn around.

No one. She didn't see anything, just a mix of shadows, too jumbled to pick out individual shapes. She turned her head back forward, and picked up her pace just a little.

And the not-echo started again. She turned around again, pulling her wand this time. "Lumos!" she snapped, sending a broad swath of light down the alley. Not that it did any good. There was no one there, although there was so much junk that there were plenty of places to hide. With a snarl of frustration, she turned back to her original direction, noting with some (very hidden) apprehension that she was almost exactly halfway down the alley. No one would be interfering, not that they necessarily would anyway. She decided that dropping the crumbling façade of unconcerned dignity in favor of speed was probably a good idea, and broke into a run.

Bad idea. She had gone just a few steps, enough to get to full speed, when her feet were knocked out from under her, by what she recognized as a basic tripping charm. Normally, it was amusing to see someone fall flat on their face, then get up embarrassed. However, when someone was running full tilt, it wasn't nearly so amusing.

She didn't even have time to catch herself. She hit the ground hard, all the breath knocked out of her, and worst of all, Ryua heard her wand skitter away down the alley. _And I can't use a summoning charm..._She couldn't even push herself up onto her hands, only lie there, gasping for breath, unable to hear anything over the wheeze of her bruised lungs and the blood rushing in her ears.

A force, magic again, by the prickling feel on her skin picked her up. The vertical position let a decent breath of air bubble down her throat, only to have it forced back out when she slammed against a wall. She vaguely felt her arms and legs bound to the stone, by some sort of rock-shaping spell, and the panic she'd been trying to fight down broke completely loose. _Trapped..._

She forced her head up, and her eyes to focus, still unable to suck oxygen down her throat. A figure stepped out of the shadows, one that was all-too familiar. She tried to say his name, to threaten him, curse him, anything...

"So, you think you're too good for me? You think you can just refuse? Hah. Let's see you refuse me now." Blaise Zabini stalked forward, his whole body tense, quivering.

With a thrill of terror, she realized just how she was tied onto the rock, spread-eagled, just slightly lower than him. Ryua tried to force her aching lungs to take a breath, so she could scream, utter a curse, even to clear the fog obscuring her thoughts, blocking off her magic.

And then, she didn't have a way to draw breath at all. Zabini was pushed up on top of her, crushing her already bruised chest to the wall, his mouth blocking hers. Her jaws wouldn't close, her body overriding the need to bite with the need to try and breathe. _And I still can't move..._Ryua pulled frantically at the stone circles around her arms and legs, until she could feel the magic stone cutting into her flesh, but she couldn't force her hands through, the bones wouldn't get any smaller, though the blood was trickling down her arm. "You are mine. You are rightfully mine, and I won't be denied." He growled, pulling at her robes, while she fought for breath and freedom, losing both battles. She was only managing short gasps, barely enough to keep conscious, and then he tore through the fabric, and pressed up against her again, cutting off even that scant support.

Ryua was fading, the dark alley blurring together, the sharp pain in her limbs dulling to a throb. And then, just as she felt him starting to probe around, just shy of invading her, something snapped.

She wasn't entirely sure what happened, but everything snapped into focus. Zabini glowed with a silvery light, floating up from her, a furious expression on his face. After, she thought that expression, one of affronted injury, of having a well-earned treat taken away, that was what did him in. Somehow, through a well of strength she hadn't realized existed, her link to her magic blasted wide open. Eyes narrowed in hate, her attempts to breathe forgotten, overridden in her fury, she pushed.

Zabini flew backwards, harder than she had. Much harder. He hit the wall opposite with a loud crack, slumping senseless down to the ground leaving a trail of blood behind him. Ryua's breath rushed in all at once, only to be knocked out for a third time as the stone bonds holding her to the wall slid smoothly back into flat bricks. This time, maybe to keep her from doing anything else dangerous, her body pulled her right into unconsciousness.

It couldn't have been more than five minutes later that she awoke. Her ribs and lungs ached horribly, although they were pumping air again. Her ankles were raw, the skin torn slightly on the right where she'd tried to pull out through the stone manacles. Her hands were the worst, the flesh mashed and cut almost to the bone under her thumb and pinky, as she'd been concentrating all her efforts to get free.

Wait, how did she get free? Zabini wouldn't have just dropped the manacles, even if he were injured, it would have been fairly easy to get up and stun or silence her before someone came to investigate. In fact, she couldn't think why he would have let her go, it made no sense whatsoever.

_Unless he didn't let me go._ Ryua knew that many spells stopped when the creating mage was prevented from keeping them up. Which meant she'd hit him against that wall pretty hard, hard enough to render him unconscious.

She walked over to him on her knees, unable to use her hands to support her, and not strong enough yet to stand up. He lay crumpled at the bottom of the wall, blood leaking from the back of his head, already pooling on the ground beneath him. And then she noticed bits of other things stuck to the wall.

_Dead then._ She didn't feel any remorse, and didn't feel she should. He'd been trying to rape her, and she'd given him fair warning to never touch her again. _Oh, wait, this could cause some problems..._

She had just killed someone. True, she'd done it in self-defense, and hadn't really _meant_ to kill him, although she didn't exactly mind the outcome. _I have to get out of here. I have to find mother or father, or even Draco. Before someone comes and does something else._ Ryua turned so her back was against some old crate and pushed herself up to her feet. Not wasting any time, she stumbled out of the alley, only stopping to pick up her wand. If anyone else tried to follow her, he wouldn't get close enough to even try.


	3. Draco Stands Up

Someday, I will own something of great value. This will not be Harry Potter, as J K Rowling already owns it.

Draco Stands Up

Draco and Lucius walked into Madam Malkin's, searching for the girls. They'd been looking for them for a good twenty minutes now, and this was the eighth store, third on Diagon Alley. "Ah, Narcissa, there you are!" Lucius said in a cheerful, friendly tone.

Narcissa jumped, fumbling a deep blue robe. "Oh, hello you two. Did you have fun shopping?"

"Yes, Mother. Is Ryua trying something on?"

She frowned. "No, didn't you meet her in Knockturn?"

"No, why didn't you go with her, dear?"

Even in a good mood, Lucius intimidated Narcissa. "Well... I just thought she might like some time to herself, a chance to shop around a bit without me getting impatient..."

Draco had started to tune out the conversation, the barest feelings of unease starting in his mind.

"...just twenty minutes ago, she's probably still shopping..." Narcissa answered her husband's question about time.

"Well, I'm sure she can take care of herself, and if not, there are very few down Knockturn who would dare touch a Malfoy now..."

"I think we ought to go check on her."

Lucius stopped talking, an incredulous look on his face that his favored son had dared interrupt him. "I'm sure there's nothing to worry about..."

Draco was starting to feel more and more worried, nearly panicky. "Father, I think there's something wrong..."

"Stop interrupting me, boy! Your sister is fine!" he snapped.

At the word fine, Draco felt a jolt of fear stab through him. "Damn it, Father, something's wrong! She's terrified! And hurt," and Draco, greatly daring with his sister in danger, leaned in close and whispered, "And you know _very_ well she doesn't scare or hurt easily. There is something down Knockturn Alley that Ryua can't handle, and if you aren't going to do something about it, I'll go and probably get both of us killed instead!" And turning on his heel, he stalked out, jarring stride showing his worry and anger.

Narcissa looked up at Lucius, eyes steady, though her hands trembled. "Lucius, if there really is something wrong, Draco will know it. And he really is going to find her, and we'd better go help, or they will get in serious trouble."

Taken completely aback by both his son and wife talking back to him, for once in his life, Lucius followed her out the door after their son.

It was nothing new for Narcissa to go to others for help, and so alerted one of the low-ranking aurors patrolling Diagon Alley, like the muggle please-men. Lucius pulled ahead of them, trying to keep Draco's fast-vanishing head in sight as she filled him in on the scant details.

And when they got down by Borgin's and Burkes', they found Draco supporting Ryua, blood on her arms, robes torn, and face very pale. She swallowed when she saw the auror coming up next to her parents, and spoke in a flat, calm voice. "Sir, I have just been attacked, by a fellow student in my school. He had me disarmed, and manacled to the wall where he tried to force himself on me. When he wouldn't desist, I lost control and threw him across the alley. The impact killed him, though it wasn't my intention." Her speech done, Ryua sagged against Draco, shock setting in and refusing to let her joints carry her weight.

Looking very flustered because not only was this obviously his first week on the job, but he was hauled down Knockturn Alley, and called upon to be investigator for a possible murder, the poor auror tiptoed down the alley, wand held very much at the ready, and calling frantically for backup through his Ministry connection spell.

Ryua didn't know any of this. Draco had pulled her the little way down the street to their floo station, and took her home, leaving Father to sort out the little mess he'd created. For Draco knew who it must have been to even have the idea in his head to rape Ryua. Only Blaise would have even thought he could try it, and only he would have ever been dumb enough to go through with it. Even Crabbe or Goyle knew better than to try and do anything Ryua didn't like. "What an idiot. He should have realized that if you didn't kill him off the start, I'd be making life a living hell for him at school."

She looked up at him, and managed a smile. "Hmm, maybe. Where's father?"

"Probably halfway to the Ministry of Magic by now."

"Oh, good... put me down on this chair, will you? I have to rest before I can manage the stairs." Draco let her gently down, and she slumped forward over her knees, taking slow, painful breaths. Between blood loss and bruised or broken ribs, Ryua was feeling just a tad on the light-headed side. Of course, if Lucius was anywhere nearby, she would have walked under her own power straight upstairs, not showing a moment of weakness. As it was, it was a whole lot easier to have her brother's arm to help her.

He pulled her up, carefully avoiding her lower arm where the skin was bruised and torn. "... Ryua, I'm sorry about all those times I teased you about being betrothed... If I'd any notion he'd go this far..."

"Hah. Not your fault. And at least I don't have to worry about a marriage the moment I'm out of school. Of course," she said darkly, "That assumes that I actually go back to school..."

"Of course you will. The law's on your side on this one. And even if it wasn't, the one lovely thing about being in this family is that you can bribe the entire courtroom if need be."

Draco lay her gently down on her bed, and pulled out the first aid kit from its usual hiding place. She fell asleep, knowing that he'd have her in much better condition when she woke up, and also knowing she'd need every second of rest she could get for the mess that was sure to follow.

Ryua was right about snatching every bit of sleep she could. A kindly witch, dispatched by the Ministry, was escorted into her room by a still-pale Narcissa and Draco, who plainly wasn't trusting anyone alone with Ryua in her condition.

"Oh, good, you're awake. Now, dear, I'm here to see what damage was actually done to you, for legal reasons, you know. And to see if you need any treatment too."

_I hate mediwitches._ Ryua had never trusted them, mostly because she couldn't exactly go to a healer over punishment inflicted by her own father. But, she knew she didn't have a choice now, at least if she didn't want to be expelled and thrown in Azkaban for murder.

"Oh, sure, come in." Ryua pushed aside the light sheet gingerly, but found that Draco had already wrapped her wrists in soft, if clumsy, bandages.

"Hmm, looks like the wrists are the worst?"

"Yes... I cut down to the bone trying to pull out of the stone..." From the look on the witch's face, she didn't believe her. "Oh, for goodness' sake, look! I was not about to let him do that to me, not until I'd exhausted every single option I had!"

The woman drew back a little at her tone, but Ryua could tell that she immediately got a little more serious in her examination. Ryua showed her both wrists, and ankles, and submitted to a quick feel of her ribs, confirming three broken, and two more dislocated. It turned out that she had actually cracked the bone leading to her right pinky, trying to wrench her hand out. She wrote everything down in detail in a little notebook, and set a healing spell on the bones. "Now, why didn't you go to a hospital in the first place, dear?"

"Um..."

"You could have even gone to a muggle one, they deal with this sort of thing more often than you might think."

"Er..."

Luckily, Draco budged into the conversation before she had to scramble for an explanation she didn't want to give. "Excuse me, ma'am, Ryua wasn't up to making any decisions, she couldn't even walk on her own. I thought it best to get her out of Knockturn before any of Zabini's friends came along, and somewhere where she could sleep. And I know enough from lessons in quidditch practice to doctor up at least the cuts, I figured the rest of it could wait until things had settled down a bit."

"Hmm. Well, maybe you're right about that. It seems to have done her a little good to get out of everything, and if she'd stayed anywhere public, she'd have those idiot Ministry officials questioning her. Now, Ryua dear, I'm going to heal up those cuts for you before I go. I won't be able to do anything about scarring, though, you'll have them probably for the rest of your life, I'm afraid."

"That's fine. I could have come out much worse." _What're another few scars... at least I'm still whole._ Which was something else the witch had checked, after shooing Draco and Narcissa out. It had been close, but Ryua had exploded just before Zabini got inside. _Inside... that's just a horrific thought..._ If Ryua had ever wanted a boyfriend before, she certainly didn't now. And the mediwitch poking around, even though she was healing, completely deadened any craving for human contact. _All I have to do is get through the trial... then I can go back to school._


	4. Waiting For Trial

Someday, I will own something of great value. This will not be Harry Potter, as J K Rowling already owns it.

Waiting For Trial

It was a week and a bit later, four days before her trial on August Twelfth, and Ryua was finally back on her feet. She had her wand, and no one had tried to separate her from it, as she'd likely curse whoever tried, just from nerves. Unfortunately, being fully recovered had some nasty side effects.

Lucius wasn't the least bit amused. Not only had Ryua rebelled against his authority in about the most violent way possible, but she'd done it in a way that he had no choice but to protect her interests. If he told the Ministry that Zabini actually had rights to it, in any sort of way, he'd be cast out of his job, fined a whole lot of money, and his reputation tarnished as a child abuser who married off his kids right out of the cradle. All of which, naturally, made him rather perturbed.

So naturally, as soon as Ryua was feeling at all like moving around, he pounced. Cleverly, he didn't actually touch her, but spelled her wand right out of her hand before she even knew he was there. "So. Hello, father."

"I am very upset with your behavior, Ryua."

She stopped walking, and spun back to face him. "Upset? Imagine how I feel! If you hadn't made the stupid arrangement in the first place, I wouldn't have had to do it!"

"Be that as it may, you had no right to attack him in such a manner!"

"_I _attacked _him?_ Just what do you think went on down in that alley?" their voices were rising now, and everything sentient with ears got quickly away from the area. "He tried to rape me, father. What was I supposed to do?"

"Well..."

"Oh, don't even answer that! I can't believe you sometimes."

Lucius' face got that expression of distressed, loving parenthood again, and he said, "Now, Ryua, you really must learn to respect your elders..."

"When I meet some worthy of respect, I will!" she snapped. She refused to wince as he lifted his wand, cutting in with, "And I'd be careful about cursing me, father. I'm going to a hearing to see if I killed in self-defense or not. They're going to want to double-check my injuries, and fresh curse scars wouldn't tally up. Would they, father?"

It looked, for a second at least, that she'd actually talked her way out of a beating. What she didn't take into account was that there were curses that didn't leave marks. Granted, the less marking curses were more energy-consuming, but much more efficient to compensate... "Crucio!"

And Ryua fell to her knees. With the first wave of pain, she collapsed to her knees. She'd thought she'd felt pain before. Thought she was getting good at tolerating pain, thought her guards were well developed. Within the first few seconds of being hit by the Unforgivable Curse, her guards were completely flattened. She was on her knees, on her hands and knees and screaming.

Over towards greenhouse, Draco blanched as a wave of dull pain flashed over his body. Narcissa looked around at him, just as the screaming began a few seconds later. He swallowed, twitching with every fresh, if dulled wave, and without making a sound they left the house completely.

When Lucius finally lifted his wand, Ryua collapsed down onto her elbows, some shred of herself still refusing to lie down before her father. Luckily, he was satisfied with having finally made her scream, and swept out impressively. Of course, the impressiveness was lost on her, as the only thing she could see was floating lights in front of her eyes. She concentrated on breathing, ignoring the harsh rasp of air in her raw throat. Slowly, the lights faded, and she opened her eyes to see the warm, polished maple floor, her arms supporting her head, long hair puddled on the floor, blending in almost perfectly to the light-gold wood.

Ryua pushed herself to her elbows, then hands, then all the way back to kneeling on the floor. This caused a wave of dizziness to cloud her head again, and she closed her eyes, concentrating on breathing. Her entire body ached, like she'd played an eight-hour quidditch match, pelted by Bludgers the entire time. And that was nothing compared to her head, where it felt like the Weasley twins were having a free-for-all smashing contest. And something completely new, her throat ached.

Even back when she was a little kid, and got the whooping cough from Crabbe, her father had gotten a healer to come in and banish the germs, and she'd had numbing potions before he got there. But she'd never screamed herself hoarse before. _I can't believe I gave in like that. Just gave in..._Not that she'd had any choice. Even her mind was screaming for it to stop, and she couldn't have done anything constructive with her body if her life had depended on it. And nearly as bad as the pain from the curse, was the humiliation of losing control, of screaming, of not being able to withstand it...

A wave of anger swept through her, the warm emotion soothing some pins and needles, and giving her the strength to lurch to her feet. She spent another five minutes getting used to an upright position, then walked down to the kitchens, to get a drink of water, maybe something sweet to eat... Ryua debated looking for her wand, then instantly discounted the idea. Even if father had left it laying on the floor somewhere (which she highly doubted) she wasn't in the least bit up to bending over. She'd probably fall flat on her face and add a concussion headache to the curse one. Father would have to give it back for the trial; they didn't let people in the Ministry without presenting their wands.

One good thing, though; Toppy took one look at her, skin milk-white, eyes sunken and bloodshot, hands trembling, and holding herself up shamelessly against the wall, and the loyal (if hyper) elf pulled her onto a crate of fruit (all the chairs were elf-sized) and started fussing about with tea, cookies, juice, cake, whatever came to hand. More than content to be cared for at the moment, Ryua sat leaned against the kitchen hearth, mind blank except for the relief of not being in pain.


	5. Reflections

Someday, I will own something of great value. This will not be Harry Potter, as J K Rowling already owns it.

Reflections

_(Ryua, her bedroom, August 11, night before trial)_

Lucius, thankfully, hadn't cursed her again since that night. This meant that Ryua could concentrate on what she was going to say in her defense. Actually, she probably didn't need to say anything, she had clearly been acting in her own defense, had been the victim.

Well, Ryua didn't work that way. If father really wanted to bribe off the jury, let him, she wasn't going to turn down help, but she wasn't really worried about convincing them.

What she was worried about was the Zabinis. Forget that their son had been the aggressor; in their eyes, their little baby boy had been killed. And they would want an explanation at the least, and probably some form of recompense. Father seemed sure that he'd just pay them one and a half her dowry, and that would settle things. _And for him, it probably would. _Lucius would look at losing his daughter or son as a setback, a loss of a potential breeder, but probably wouldn't really care. And Narcissa...

She might actually care. She might be sad that one of her children was dead. She might even go so far as to express her grief to Lucius, and ask for something, something to fill the void. A puppy, perhaps. Narcissa had never been good for standing up for herself, or even her children. You could tell that deep down, she had a maternal instinct as strong as Mrs. Weasley's, but she had buried it deep under many layers of fear and self-pity, and it had degraded, down to something barely noticed.

_Here's something interesting_; Lucius was the one that wanted more children. He wanted enough genes to ensure his line continued. He never wanted to play with them, or help them grow, but he wanted offspring. Especially sons, as daughters were just good for marrying off... (_Little chauvinistic son-of-a-bundimun...)_

And he'd married Narcissa because she was pretty, pureblood, and used to being ordered around. Deep down, she'd resented the marriage. And deep down, he knew it. That was one of the reasons they had so many troubles.

The ironic thing was, he'd wanted a brood-mare and a trophy, not a dependant who served no purpose. And he'd been the one to make Narcissa just that. Once, back when she was a little girl, even a young teen, Narcissa had been energetic, full of life, and seemingly ready to undergo any rigors of womanhood. When she was married to a 19-year-old Lucius at 23, she wasn't your fully blushing, giddy bride, but she seemed resigned to put her all into it.

Over the years, that had all changed.

(_Narcissa, wandering through memories)_

She was first pregnant at 24, but never carried past the first term. And that was just a fluke. Nothing her fault, not even anything his fault. What happened next was his fault.

Lucius had been furious. He started cursing her, threatening her with horrific punishments if she didn't bear children. And the fact that he was rising fast through the Death Eater ranks only made him cocky and able to carry out those threats. So she tried. And got weaker and weaker with every pregnancy. She had two more false alarms before she finally conceived twins.

It was then that she made her biggest mistake. When she missed her cycle that month, she didn't bother to tell Lucius, thinking it would just make him so mad when it turned out to be another false alarm.

Which it didn't. She didn't realize this for months, of course, but one of his curses, she wasn't sure which one, or whether it was many, hit deep. Deep enough that it affected her womb, split the fetus into twins, and through some miraculous twist of fate, probably the only true bit of luck she ever got, altered one of the genes into a male. She carried to full term, and delivered two healthy, if small children.

What the doctor didn't tell her, and what Lucius refused to truly acknowledge for years, was that between the curses and birthing twins, Narcissa's womb was incapable of housing a baby again. When two months after the birth, she was still aching, and Lucius refused to pay attention to her pain but kept trying to sire children, she took a day to visit some friends. Once she was safely out of the house, one twin on her front and the other across her back, Narcissa went directly to St. Mungo's, and tracked down a midwife. The round, motherly woman charmed away the damage still unhealed from the birth, set an anti-pregnancy charm, and sent home an official warning that Narcissa was never again to bear children, or Lucius would be out one wife.

He was furious. Narcissa knew he'd be furious, and had tucked her children away to sleep in the nursery, closing and soundproofing the door before she went to confront him. All he wanted from a wife was to bear children, and now he was stuck with one who couldn't. And in this day, he couldn't have more than one. Actually, he'd been so put out about it, that he was planning with the Dark Lord (to whom he was right hand now) to give all his 'officers' the right to 'ensure their noble lines were continued', with wives, or any women they deemed 'suitable'.

It would have neatly solved Lucius' problem.

Unfortunately, they made a miscalculation.

And a legend by the name of Harry Potter was born.

Lucius was stuck with a barren wife, one son, one rebellious daughter, and a lot of bribing just to keep his good name.

Now, He was back. And Lucius planned to make up for lost time, as soon as the Dark Lord was back in full force. Narcissa knew her days were numbered. She just hoped her children would have a better shot at life. Somehow...

Author's Note: I had originally planned to write a completely different chapter. And then I realized that no one actually knew the history for these people that I have written out in my head. It's changed a lot, since the beginning of the books, but I like it this way. Incredible, how much the story evolves on it's own. It really is completely different than I ever intended.

Here's a question for you. (Yes, you sitting in front of the computer, debating whether or not to hit the review button. Please do, I need feedback.) Should I break up my story into individual books (like, Book One is a separate story from Book Two, and so on...), leave it all in one big lump, like it is now and go for the record for longest fanfic, or cut it at book five, and then I get to keep my PG-13 rating, and still safely write and rate what comes after.

And, just in case anyone is interested in me completely spoiling the story for you, please let me know. I'm not looking for an actual beta, cause I'm not online enough for a full-time thing. What I need is a sounding board. I have all these ideas, and I don't know which ones to go with. And I need to figure that out before I write too much more. I tried to get my mom, sister, and boyfriend to read the story, and only the last has gotten past even the first book. I need someone who knows Ryua, knows the story, and what her life is like, someone who'll even listen to me rant about ideas. So, please let me know, but keep in mind, you'll lose a huge chunk of the enjoyment of reading a story, as you'll know huge amounts of what's going to happen.

Regarding the rather rude review left by !!!!!!!!!, I've now re-uploaded book three. For future reference, if anyone notices that my formatting's bad, or I've left a hole in the plot, or something... it is REALLY useful if you actually tell me what parts are messed up. I spent an hour and a half finding my own story on the site, then going through each chapter to see what ones were uploaded wrong. Thanks for the note, but next time, tell me _what_ actually needs to be fixed, instead of 'stop clumping the paragraphs stupid author'

One good thing that did, though, was that I've suddenly noticed I have well over a hundred reviews now. That is so incredibly cool, as I've always read authors and gone 'wow, how did they get so many reviews, I could never do that'. I guess I did.

So...

THANK YOU ALL!

(This doesn't mean you can stop reviewing now, by the way.)

And in case anyone wonders, a bundimun is a stinky, scurrying, mossy creature found in "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them"


	6. The Trial

Someday, I will own something of great value. This will not be Harry Potter, as J K Rowling already owns it.

The Trial

Ryua woke up August Twelfth feeling slightly sick to her stomach. She couldn't remember why for a moment, then as Lucius yelled down the hallway for her to get her lazy, useless self out of bed and halfway presentable, she remembered. This was the day of her trial. It was set at noon, in the Ministry for Magic courtroom 10. With a groan, Ryua rolled out of bed and forced herself into the shower.

She woke up immediately with a blast of cold water. With a yelp, she turned the heat back up, remembering that Toppy always used cold water to rinse the house-elf-magic residue off everything. Heat only made it sticky.

Once clean, she sorted through her robes, eventually deciding on pure black (both to show respect for the dead and the seriousness of the trial), with a very basic cut, although made of light silk, so she wouldn't suffocate outside, and a matching cloak so she wouldn't freeze in the underground courtrooms.

And, just to top it off, she neatly tied her hair up in a bun, something she'd never done willingly. Today, however, it would probably be best to appear professional and polished.

Or she could go for the whole, disheveled, weepy look, but she doubted that would work. They'd see right through to the fact that she wasn't really that upset he was gone from her life. She hadn't meant to kill him, precisely, but she wasn't going to act like she wished he was still around.

Lucius, looking severe and proper as always, nodded at her appearance. "Eat something quickly, and make sure you don't get any crumbs on your robes."

"Yes, father," Ryua said, suppressing a sigh. She wasn't a sloppy toddler anymore...

They flooed directly there, arriving well before time for the trial. "Father, why are we here so early? If I may ask."

Amazingly enough, he gave her a civil reply, crossing over to the wizard in the check-in booth. "It is always prudent to show up a little early for something of this importance, Ryua. And also," he said, as Ryua's wand was handed back, "I have something I would like to check in on."

Ryua was a little disturbed by the lightness of his tone, and wondered just what he was so excited about looking in on at work. Interestingly enough, he didn't go down to his office level, but went right down to the courtroom level. And then stopped dead in front of a door, and leaned casually against it. Ryua followed suit, wondering what they were there for. It didn't take long to find out.

What looked like the entire Wizengamut filed out of the door they were standing opposite of, followed by Harry and Mr. Weasley. Ryua started up off the wall in surprise at seeing Harry in a place like this. Fortunately, her father rose lazily at the same time, saying, "Ah, Arthur. How did it go?"

"Lucius," Mr. Weasley said coldly, "It went fine, of course. Harry got off no trouble, as was to be expected for such a minor incidence." Ryua was impressed. Not many people could talk to her father that way, they all acted like some sort of subordinate, or slavering lapdog.

"Of course. We must be glad that Mr. Potter got off so... easily. Well, don't let me hold you up..."

"Oh, don't worry about that. Harry, let's go." And with that, Mr. Weasley steered a very relieved and confused looking Harry into the elevator.

"Father, what was Harry - Potter doing here?" _I really have to remember to drop the first name when I'm at home..._

Lucius didn't seem to notice her slip though, and just said, "A small incident in which he used a Patronus charm over the summer."

"A Patronus? There were dementors at Potter's house? Doesn't he live with a bunch of muggles?"

"Yes, two of them. And he did a remarkable job of getting rid of them, all on his own. Odd, I'd expect someone to be watching over him a bit more than that."

Ryua didn't even bother to ask how Lucius knew there were exactly two dementors at Harry's house. She knew he'd been communicating regularly with the Dark Lord over the summer, and was certain it was a plan to kill him. Funny, how he just seemed to keep avoiding all these death plans...

The conversation didn't go much further, of course, because the Wizengamut was filing back into the courtroom, Dumbledore and Snape included. _Odd, wasn't he kicked off the Wizengamut? And when did Snape become a member?_

She didn't mind seeing a few friendly faces there, however. They stood in front seats beside her father, in the witness stands. They hadn't actually been there, of course, so the only real witnesses were Zabini and Ryua. But they would vouch for her sanity and innocence.

_Not that I have much of either..._

And so it started. Fudge opened the court, introducing the Wizengamut, and the jury of impartial judges, the Zabinis, and her defendants. "The case in question is Malfoy versus Zabini. All may be seated, thank you."

Ryua knew that acting really upset would only get her in trouble with the truth spells set on her. The little vrondi were invisible to her, of course, so she couldn't gauge how her reactions were showing, like a muggle lie detector. They would make her glow bright blue when she told a falsehood, prompting requestioning. So, she kept impersonal as much as possible, her only emotion being the worry of getting back into school.

First, Delores Umbrage asked her to recount what had gone on that day, to which Ryua had to respond that she had been shopping for her birthday. Which seemed innocent enough until one wizard asked why she had gone down Knockturn Alley. "Most young witches would be content to stay in Diagon Alley,"

"Yes sir. And I did most of my shopping there. I went down Knockturn to find some Rowan bark. The school supply store was out." _Lucky for me it actually was, I'd hate to say I was after Acromantula fangs and such._

"Hmm," Umbrage said in an unpleasantly screechy voice, "I see. And you were attacked by Mr. Zabini..."

"On my way back to... meet my family." Ryua was careful to pick her words not to set off any alarms, but not to incriminate herself as a Dark witch either. "I was taking a shortcut through an alley. I heard footsteps..."

"Yes?" Fudge actually seemed to be trying to be kind and understanding.

"So, I looked back to see if anyone was there. I couldn't see anything in the shadows, so I started walking again, faster. I knew someone was following me then, so I decided to gamble on my own speed and the inaccuracy of my stalker and ran. It didn't pay off. I was caught by a tripping charm, and lost my wand, depriving me of my protection. The wind was knocked out of me, I couldn't breathe, let alone scream. I was slammed up against the wall, and he secured me in place with a livingstone spell, creating manacles around my wrists and ankles. He kept pressing down on top of me," Much to her annoyance, her voice started to shake just a little at the memory, the fear... "I couldn't draw breath. I was blacking out at this point. I kept trying to pull free..."

"You've read my report on her injuries, Minister." The mediwitch Ryua remembered spoke up from behind in the court somewhere. "The scars will be visible for the rest of her life, the ones on her wrists most plain to see."

"I believe we can take your word on that..."

"Maybe we should check, Minister, just in case!" _That woman seems to enjoy this far too much..._

"Very well, Ms. Umbrage." Ryua rose from her seat, and instead of waiting for Percy Weasley to come and pay witness, she walked right up to where she sat, pulling up her right sleeve and raising her wrist not quite in her face. "As you can see, I was severely injured. My brother brought me home and stopped the blood loss, and you mediwitch took care of the rest. If he hadn't acted so quickly, I probably wouldn't be in any condition to stand here. Now, if you are satisfied?"

"Oh... yes, of course dear," but Ryua was already turned away, going back to her seat.

"Erm, right. Now, if you would continue your narrative..."

"Of course Minister. I was losing consciousness, and he was almost... inside..." she shook her head, and continued, her voice strong and clear again. "Something inside me snapped. I suddenly had complete access to my magic again. Maybe it was fear or anger, or maybe divine intervention, I don't know, and I don't really think it matters. I wasn't thinking clearly, having been unable to breathe properly for nearly five minutes. I just wanted him off of me, away from me, as fast as possible. My innate magic took me at my words, as it were, and flung him away. If I had been facing down the alley, he probably would have been stunned, bruised, maybe broken. As it was, the other wall was only four feet away. The force would have thrown him easily twenty feet. It was enough to crack his skull. The manacles disappeared, and I fell onto the ground. I really did black out that time, I'm not sure for how long. I don't think it could have been for more than five or ten minutes, judging by the amount of my blood on the ground, and the fact that there was still a spreading pool of it under him. I realized he was dead..."

"Dead people don't bleed. Did you even check for a pulse?" Umbrage asked, seemingly determined to sentence someone for something.

"Ms. Umbrage, there were bits of skull and brain on the wall. Just because his heart hadn't got the unsent message that the brain was dead doesn't mean he was alive." Ryua hid a smile of triumph at the sickened expression that crossed the witch's face. "I left to find my family and the authorities. Draco had already led them out to find me, luckily, and my mother hauled along an auror..."

"Is this true, Mr. Malfoy?" Umbrage asked sharply.

"Yes. Being twins, Draco can sense when Ryua is in trouble or pain. We found her coming up Knockturn Alley, and Draco took her home, away from the excitement."

"And the missus did bring me, ma'am," an auror Ryua didn't quite recognize piped up from the back.

Umbrage's face got ugly. "Well, I think we've thoroughly heard your side of the story. Mrs. Zabini, if you please?"

The witch, dressed all in black, rose. Immediately, she started in on a tirade of how she mercilessly, without warning murdered her son in cold blood. Her husband looked downright uncomfortable.

"Minister, if I may interject?"

"Professor Severus Snape, acknowledged."

"Thank you. Ryua had been receiving unwelcome attentions from Mr. Zabini throughout the year. She made it clear, numerous times, that she was not interested. The most substantial case was during the Christmas Ball. Zabini caught her out in the garden, after implicit instructions not to touch her. He tried to kiss her, she bit his tongue..."

"Halfway off, according to Madam Pomfery..." Dumbledore put in.

"And said that if he touched her again, she would kill him." Snape concluded.

"And just how did you come across this information, if they were in the garden?"

Dumbledore rose this time. "Madam Pomfery informed me of his injury, of course. And Professor Snape enquired with Miss Malfoy as to what happened. And, I have it from a very reliable student, who was two rosebushes down."

"If you wish, you could always cross check. I believe she is still under the truth spell, correct?" Snape seemed to recognize the fact that Umbrage wouldn't accept the word of a student making out in a bush as gospel truth.

"I don't think that will be necessary." Fudge said firmly. "From all that I have seen today, Miss Malfoy's claim that she was acting only in self defense, and with a previous warning to boot, is completely true. It will be placed on your permanent record of course..."

"Yes minister," Ryua said quietly.

"But you will not be judged a murderer. If the jury agrees?" Ryua held her breath, looking at the collection of witches and wizards. One by one, they all nodded. "Then I rule the defendant not guilty. All charges dismissed." Everyone left. Snape came up, as if to squeeze her shoulder or something, but thought better of it and instead nodded, following Dumbledore out.

And for once, Ryua wasn't the least bit anxious about being alone with her father. She was just completely tired, all the tension she hadn't actually been aware of had flowed out. "I'm glad that's over. Although, why do you suppose Mr. Zabini didn't say anything?"

Lucius smirked as he led his daughter out. "I made it clear to him that his son was at fault. And that he would do well to leave our family alone."

"And how did you do that?"

"With a little gold, and a lot of dark threats."

_Hmm, maybe he's got some good points after all. Nah, he just didn't want to be father of a murderer... like he can talk._

Author's note: Vrondi, and the truth spell, come from Mercedes Lackey's books. (Something everyone should read, by the way) And I'm sorry it took so long to write this chapter. But have any of you ever actually seen a real murder trial? Or had to deal with the family of the victim? I had to make it up. And of course, Judge Judy helped...

Avalon 65 is my new demi-beta. If anyone else has suggestions for plot ideas, I could really, really use the ideas.

And someone asked if Narcissa was afraid for her life. The answer is yes, but she's been expecting it for years. She's more worried about what Lucius will do to her children with her scant protection gone.


	7. The Badge

Someday, I will own something of great value. This will not be Harry Potter, as J K Rowling already owns it.

The Badge

Life was going good for Ryua. She'd been acquitted by the Ministry, Lucius was still being strangely nice, thanks to the ease of her trial, and she still had her wand, so she could actually do homework. Well, sort of.

"Draco, I still don't get it!" she shrieked, after half an hour of trying to get a summoning charm to work. "I must be missing something!"

"I don't know what," he said, checking Ryua's notes. Strange, she took much better notes than him, did almost all the written work, and yet couldn't work the spells. "You just point the wand... Accio!" The vase on the table wobbled, then flew right into Draco's arms. "I dunno, it works for me."

"I know it works for you. Let's try something else... how about that dancing charm?"

"The one you used a curse for?"

"Yep."

"Okay..." Draco said, flipping through the pages. "Okay, here we go. The basic charm is easy, all you have to do is make the spiral with your wand..."

"Clockwise?"

"Yeah. And if you need to say it..."

"And we know I do,"

"The spell's _Swingsea._"

"Okay." Ryua carefully pointed her wand at the vase Draco had just set on the floor, spiraled her wand in the pattern so clearly illustrated by Flitwick, and said, clearly and with proper pronunciation, "Swingsea!"

The vase shifted backwards about two millimeters, and no more.

So she tried again, and didn't even get that much. "I am doing something wrong, Draco, I have to be."

"No, no, you're doing it exactly the way everyone else did. Let's try something else... how about... the bamboozlement charm?"

"Alright, who do I use to practice on?"

Draco shied away and tugged the bell pull. A house elf popped through one of the passageways a moment later, saying, "You is needing something, sir?"

"Yeah, would you be a subject for Ryua to charm, Kiwwi?"

The little creature gulped, but said, "Of course sir and miss."

"Don't worry, it won't hurt a bit. In fact, it's not likely it'll work at all, the way I've been going today. It's just a bamboozle charm, and Draco knows the counter charm in any instance." Much reassured, the elf stood on a couch, so if he got thrown backwards, he'd hit pillows. And Ryua raised her wand and said "Bamboozle!"

Much to her great surprise, the elf did indeed fly backwards onto a cushion. And when it tried to get up, it staggered sideways, then back the other way, and Ryua just caught him before he toppled off the couch. "Erm... Kiwwi? You alright?"

"Hee... Kiwwi is just fine, miss-miss-mississippi... You is a river, Mississippi!"

"I don't believe it. That was a perfect charm," Draco said as he cast the counter-spell on the giggling elf. "Thank you, Kiwwi, you may go now."

"Thank you sir and miss!" he squeaked and disappeared before they could change their minds.

"So, why does that charm work, and the others don't?"

"You got me. You've gotten others to work before... Silencio and Expelliarmus...Rictoshempra..."

"Hmm. I don't know. Maybe I'll just drop Charms next year. I should be able to, right?"

"Hey, you're right! Maybe I'll drop Transfiguration, McGonnagall hates me."

"No she doesn't, she acts that way with everyone." Suddenly there was a scratching noise on the window, and Ryua looked up to see a brown owl on the windowsill. "Hey, school letters!"

"Excellent!" Draco pulled open the shutters and took the proffered letters. "Here you go."

"Thanks." Ryua slit her envelope open, saw the usual booklists and such, and another slip of paper, signed by Snape and Dumbledore...

"Hey! Look!" Draco said, dropping the rest of his letter on the floor and holding something towards her. "The prefect badges are here too!"

Sure enough, they were. A silver serpent on a background of rich emerald green sat in his palm. "Cool. Good job. Of course, with Zabini out of the picture, who else were they going to give it to, Crabbe?"

"Cut it out. I worked hard for this..." he stuck his tongue out at her snort of derision. "So, where's yours?"

"Didn't get one."

"What? Why not?"

"Cause I killed one of my fellow students, duh!" Ryua said as she pulled out something from her envelope. "But I did get something much more fun."

"What could be more fun than giving detention to innocent first years?"

"Running a quidditch team."

"What?" Draco shrieked, almost dropping the badge. "How did you get captaincy?"

"The Ministry might approve prefects, but the head of house and headmaster decide on the quidditch teams. I'm sure father would much prefer my getting a prefect badge, though..."

"Oh, yeah... ouch. Better let me give him my news first, that way he should be in a really good mood."

"Good idea..." Ryua said, pocketing her letter and following her brother out.

Lucius was thrilled to see Draco's badge, clapping him on the back and promising another present. And then, he turned his gaze on Ryua, and gestured for her envelope. She'd kept her notice about quidditch separate, hoping he wouldn't ask if she'd gotten extra, when she noticed his eyes narrow at the bottom of the page. "Quidditch captains are recommended to supply their own broom?"

_Oops. Why did it have to be right on the booklist..._ "Well, father, I reckon I can just use the team brooms, you know very well that they're fine. And you will not tell the school that I turn it down, only I can do that."

Draco hadn't even bothered to wait and see if Lucius noticed the captaincy note. The moment Lucius had let him go, he'd grabbed his mother by the hand and led her out. "What's wrong, Draco?" she asked.

"Ryua's been given captaincy of the quidditch team."

"Oh dear..."

"You will write back and turn it down."

"No, I will not."

"Yes, you will."

"No, I won't"

"You will."

"I won't. It's mine. And just because you seem to have some complex about feeling inferior to females, I am not going to back down like some spineless little servant!"

"I will offer you one last opportunity..."

"Oh, for Salazar's sake, Lucius, we both know you're just going to curse me anyway, so get _on with it."_

Maybe it was the use of his first name, that she dared use it like an equal. Maybe it was the sight of her own wand coming up, a spell already charging at the tip. Or maybe he just wanted to let off some frustration. Either way, his own spell left his wand just milliseconds after hers, and he threw himself sideways to try and dodge it. He sort of did, the jet of fire grazing his robes. He spared a moment to extinguish them, only to see that during that few seconds, Ryua had pushed up off the floor, a trickle of blood running down through her hair from bouncing off the wall. She had a feral look in her eyes, a hungry spirit stirring, crying for blood. He didn't waste time charging up for an unforgivable curse, just sent off a jelly-legs jinx.

Ryua cursed as her legs collapsed under her, and sent Tarrentallegra across the room at the same time. She pondered for all of half a second on whether she would have better luck trying to make a counter-jinx or a levitation spell, then started right in on Wingardium Leviosa. Without her constant attention, the first-level spell wouldn't last more than a minute, but she didn't have a choice. Almost before the spell was complete, she was readying an Impediment jinx.

Which never made contact. Lucius had managed to throw his weight to the left just as his legs jerked straight, sending him right into a chair. He sent Impedimentia right back at her, throwing her into the wall even harder than before due to the fact she was still floating. And this time, he didn't pause giving her a chance to get back up. He sent a whip of fire lashing out, curling around her writhing body, striking again and again...

And he was suddenly doubled over in his chair, rolling out..._laughing?_ She dared use Rictoshempra?

Ryua didn't bother to push herself up, feeling burned welts all along her skin. She just kept her wand focused on her father, the first dueling spell she'd ever used coming through for her again. And slowly, painfully, she slid herself towards the door.

Until, of course, she hit a pedestal, holding up a large rose crystal orb. It was supposed to be used for scrying, or grounding magic. Right now, it was just very, very, heavy. Ryua felt her leg hit the pillar, and didn't even look up, just threw herself aside. Which was painful, as she skidded and tore the burns along her right side. Not as painful as the crystal orb, which rocked ponderously, then tipped down, missing her head, body, arm, but crushing her right hand. She screamed, and her tenuous hold on Lucius collapsed as her pain-wracked fingers lost their grip on her wand and it rolled across the floor.

Across the room, Lucius wasted no time standing up. Not that he needed to worry. Ryua had curled around her hand, wand forgotten on the floor. Most people, by this point, would have accepted her pain as adequate punishment. Lucius, however, didn't want to accept punishment from any other source as being enough. He walked over, and knelt next to her. Almost tenderly, he reached down, and pulled her arm out. It was easy to see she was trying to pull back, but the muscles in her arm were understandably not responding well. "Now, Ryua," he said, gently stroking down her forearm, lightly running his fingers over her broken ones. "I do, do wish that you would just do what I say, the first time. It would save so much energy, on both our parts. Don't you think that's a wonderful idea?" And he squeezed her hand, ever so slightly.

Ryua groaned, stretching out, still trying to suppress her pain. And then, much to his great surprise, Ryua rolled her head over, so she could glare up at him. Her ice blue eyes, full of hate, glittered up through her disheveled hair, a trickle of blood running through her eyebrow, framing the side of her otherwise dry face. _Ahh, beautiful._ Lucius believed pain was an art, and his daughter was most indeed a wonderful canvas."Y-you can... just... bugger off!" And she spit at him, which was not part of his .

Shocked, and disgusted at the wet patch on his knee, Lucius viciously squeezed her fingers and flung her hand back onto the floor as he rose. He stalked out, remembering to summon her wand on the way out. For even though she couldn't do anything right now, she would certainly try to kill him in the night if left with her wand.

And Draco, white with reflected pain, made sure he was well occupied with the hippogriffs before he made his way inside to find her.


	8. School's Almost Back

Someday, I will own something of great value. This will not be Harry Potter, as J K Rowling already owns it.

School's Almost Back

Ryua came to, not much later, lying face down on her bed, with Draco's familiar voice and hands on her back, ordering around the high-pitched squeaks of house elves. She didn't even try to move yet, just laid still and took stock. Her head ached abominably, she had lines of fire crisscrossing her belly, back, and arms, and her hand felt... strange. Almost like it wasn't there, like there was a bag of cotton there instead. She flipped her head over to that side, though it felt stiff, biting her tongue and squeezing her eyes shut as a wave of nausea swept through her head. When she opened them again, she saw three house elves clustered around her outstretched hand, which looked to be easily three times what size it should have been. Draco stopped tending her welts and leaned down.

"Hey, Ryua, you awake?"

"I hurt to much to be asleep."

She heard his light snort, not enough to be called a laugh. "Yeah, I have no doubt. What did he do to you, anyway?

"Whole mess of things..."

"I can see that. He's getting worse with the welt curses, isn't he? These look like they curl right around..."

"They do... Draco, what's wrong with my head? It feels odd... And my hand..."

"...well... you've got a nasty lump on the back of your head, and it's bled all through your hair. The elves say you're not concussed, so we haven't touched it yet. It mostly needs a good washing out, with nice, cool water.

"And my hand, Draco?"

He paused, spreading healing gel on her arms now. "The elves... they say you've badly broken the last three digits. Right into your palm, too, not just the tips."

"...Broken?" If her hand was broken, she would have to relearn everything. She'd have to learn to write, duel... how would she fly? "How bad?"

"The middle finger is cracked, miss, is not bad at all." Ryua recognized Toppy's voice. "We is afraid the last two is very smushed. And they is all squished around inside, too, not where they is supposed to be."

"Why-why can't I feel it, if it's that bad?"

"We is making it so miss can't feel anything, while we is working, miss."

"Oh..." Ryua stopped thinking about anything while Draco gently pulled her upright, careful only to touch the patches of skin that weren't burned. Despite his caution, it still hurt.

"Just a few on your belly, it looks like."

"Good. I hate bleeding on bed sheets."

He looked up, startled at her half-witted attempt at a joke, then smiled to see she was still herself. "Well, you could just be a proper little lady..."

"Say another word, Draco, and you'll regret it." She hissed as he found a particularly nasty spot. "Toppy... can you do anything about my hand?"

"We is trying our best, miss. They should be working fingers again once we is done, miss. Er... Toppy doesn't think miss should use it for much, until it heals, miss."

"How long?"

"Maybe a few weeks, miss, is bad break."

"Lovely. I now have an excuse to sulk in my room for the rest of summer. Draco, do be a dear and help mother do the school shopping?"

"Yeah. The sooner we're back at school, the better."

"Amen to that."

Author's Note: Really pathetic title, sorry. And I just got a review asking if you can't review anymore. Just to clarify things, if you _don't_ review, I might just curse you.


	9. End Of Summer

Someday, I will own something of great value. This will not be Harry Potter, as J K Rowling already owns it.

End of Summer

Ryua did spend the rest of summer in her room. She had her own bathroom, of course, and the elves didn't mind bringing her meals up in the slightest. Even though the elves had said her hand should heal well, she started training her left to do the things her right used to do. Well, except for wand work, of course. One needed a wand for that.

It was harder, with the off hand. Ryua kept wanting to make a mirror image of the spell, with her hand twisting in when her right used to, but of course, she had to go left, not in. So, she couldn't just copy the old symbols, she had to actually relearn how to trace them out. Like, an S didn't become a Z; it had to be a S, with the curves going in the same direction as on the paper. And of course, the harder she thought about mirror images and not making them, the harder it got.

And writing was worse. She'd gotten through most of her homework already, thank the Hogwarts Four, so she only had a handful of questions and a Potions essay to go. _And it looks like I'm going to have to blow off the essay._

After three days practice, Ryua could draw a straight and a curved line, and pick up and put down her quill. When she tried to write, it resembled a two-year-old's efforts, oversized, clumsy, and nearly illegible. She'd tried to use her right hand, thinking that her first two fingers and thumb were sound so it should be no problem. She could actually hold the quill, but not rest her hand on the desk. And without a wand, she might perform a rough levitation charm, but there was no chance of one delicate enough to hold her hand up off the paper to write.

So, she spent five or ten seconds per letter, carefully etching out Transfiguration answers word by word in something resembling her own hand. By the last one, her hand was completely cramped, and she'd spent ten hours. The essay was supposed to be at least three times as long. Professor Snape would just have to wait for his essay.

In between, she practiced bouncing a ball off her wall and catching it. Not nearly as easy as it sounds, mind. Most people can do it with both hands, and quite a few can do it with their dominant. But, throwing accurately, and catching without using your second hand to brace the ball all the while distracted by shoots of pain... that was nearly impossible.

So, naturally Ryua stubbornly tossed the ball at the wall, watched it bounce once on the floor, and tried to catch it. At first, she got it once every ten times.

By the end of the day, she was down to seven.

Three days later, she caught it 1 in 5.

And by the end of the week, it was a 50-50 thing.

_Which is not good enough,_ Ryua thought, throwing the ball again. She could easily throw it accurately now, and her power was increasing. Catching it was still hard, and she had to keep her right hand in her pocket, or bound to her side to keep it from reaching out on reflex. She'd done that once, and nearly blacked out from the pain. Toppy hadn't been amused either. "You is never going to heal if you is doing that, miss,"

So she'd started with her pocket. And was starting to get extremely bored. _Good thing school's only a week away. _Mother and Draco had left to go shopping earlier that day, and Ryua had locked her door before they left, just in case Lucius got in a nasty mood. Just after noon, she did hear someone tinkering with her lock spell, and she reinforced it, wishing it were a curse instead of a charm. She could trust her curses to work every time. Charms, they seemed to drop out at strange moments. Perhaps because she kept on top of it so much, Lucius decided it too much trouble and went away. Ryua breathed a sigh of relief, knowing she was in no shape to duel without a wand, and without even her good hand.

Hours later, Ryua woke up with a jolt, as she heard someone's voice yelp outside her door. "Draco? Is that you?"

"Yes it's me... What the hell did you do to this doorknob?"

"Magicked it, just a minute..." Ryua rolled off her couch, where she'd dozed off earlier on. "Sorry, I put on a few extra layers after he tried to come in."

"Man, he really has it in for you, doesn't he? Here's your stuff, figured you'd want it in here."

"Yeah, thanks..." Ryua picked up the bag, thankful she didn't have to juggle a loose stack, and stowed it in her already packed trunk.

Draco sat down on her couch, letting out a big, fake sigh of exhaustion. "So, we're just about back, eh?"

"Yeah." Ryua plopped down beside him. "I can't wait."

"Got any ideas about the quidditch team?"

"Yes, actually. I've done an inordinate amount of thinking this past week and a half. You and I are staying right where we are, unless we get someone really excellent. Think Crabbe and Goyle can fly?"

"Them? I've never thought about it. I expect once you tell them it's just a faster way to hit people harder, they'll take to it like a fish to water."

"That's just what I hope will happen. And, we'll need some chasers. I was thinking about Snape..."

"He's a teacher, Ryua," Draco said in the tone of an overly patient parent explaining things to a not-so-bright child.

"Not that Snape, dolt. Ashley Snape. She should be in her... third year now." Ryua giggled. "I said I'd put in a good word with the next quidditch captain. And Cassie Darkwind too. I saw her during their flight training, and with some real training, she could be good. That would leave us with one chaser to go..."

"Well, you'll have to see what goes on during tryouts."

"Yeah. Draco, would you send an owl to Snape, asking him to make sure the brooms are school property? I can just see our father withdrawing them from the team."

"Good idea. Why don't you do it?"

"Have you ever tried to write with your left hand?"

"Oh. Okay."

Author's Note: I was asked by Me why someone would have to relearn everything if they broke their hand. The answer is, Ryua's right-handed. Most people, (at least I do) do everything with their dominant hand. If that hand's out of commission, you'd be surprised how many things you have to relearn. So, breaking her right hand means her left has to take over a lot of stuff. And if her right never heals properly, then she even has to relearn to use that hand, because it's a different shape, or moves wrong... People really don't realize how much they use their hands, or even individual fingers.


	10. School At Last

Someday, I will own something of great value. This will not be Harry Potter, as J K Rowling already owns it.

School At Last

September 1st dawned bright and clear, to find Ryua already packed, wearing her school robes, and eating breakfast in the kitchen while awaiting her family. She was using her hand fully now, although she had a strange, bumpy patch of bone in her palm where the elves couldn't quite fix it all the way, and her littlest finger was a couple millimeters short. Ryua didn't care much, though, because she was actually using her spoon with her right hand again.

And just as she finished the last of her cereal and handed the bowl to an elf, she heard Lucius' familiar voice bossing around the numerous elves serving him. _Right on time, _she thought, as she straightened her hair and robes and went out to meet the family.

Draco looked as anxious to be out of the house as she was, and Narcissa was looking as, well, uninterested as ever. She'd been getting slightly different lately. Ryua was tempted to put it down to the return of the Dark Lord, but it just wasn't quite right. If that were the trouble, Narcissa should be more jumpy, or subservient, or wincing from curses, or something. Instead, she seemed... unconcerned... or secure... or maybe resigned, it was hard to tell which. Well, it wasn't Ryua's problem right now anyway. She was leaving. But first...

She held back at the floo fireplace, letting Draco and her mother go first. Then, she stepped in front of Lucius and held out her hand. He looked down at her, as if not comprehending basic body language. "What is it?" he asked, in a cool, unconcerned voice.

"My wand." Ryua replied, just as coolly, her hand still outstretched. "I'm sure you can realize I'll need it at school."

"Not until we get to the train."

Ryua sighed and put her hands on her hips. "This is ridiculous. You can't honestly think I'm going to attack you when I'm this close to being away from you for the next four months? You're scared?"

"I most certainly am not."

"Then it's a power thing. You think that holding my wand like I'm a two year old incapable of holding her own toys will give you power over me. Honestly, Lucius," she said, shifting to her other foot and shaking her hair over her shoulder, "I think I'm a little too old for that. People will wonder at the station, if you hand me my wand through the window, don't you think?"

"That doesn't matter. We're going."

She folded her arms and settled back on her heels. "Not till you give me my wand. If it makes you feel better, I'll give you my word I won't curse you."

"The word of a murderer?"

_I think that was supposed to sting._ "Well, I'm sure you know exactly how much a murderer's word is worth, Lucius. Now, my wand, before someone comes to tell us the train's leaving?"

For a moment, she thought he would refuse, standing there with his eye twitching as he obviously restrained himself from inflicting severe pain on the fifteen-year old girl standing impudently before him. His hand flexed, then reached into his robes. Ryua kept a firm control on her body, kept her eyes fixed on his face.

And the wand he pulled out was maple, not cedar. She casually reached out and plucked her wand from his hand, slowly turned her back, and walked into the flooplace. Ryua kept her face neutral all through the platform, past all the students, right up until she, Millicent, Crabbe, and Goyle sat down in their usual compartment. Then, her expression of triumph blossomed on her face, where no one was there to ask about it. She'd faced him down, and won. For the first time she could ever remember, Ryua hadn't come off worse from a confrontation with Lucius.

And she liked it.

A lot.

Her feeling of elation was wonderful, but she was getting bored half an hour into the ride with only the wonder lumps for company. Since Draco and Pansy were off being prefects, Ryua was really left bereft of conversation partners. She'd really rather be with them most of the time, actually. Crabbe and Goyle were fiercely loyal, although she wasn't exactly sure what she'd done to deserve it. And Millicent... she was quiet, solid, and never betraying or politicking. Yes, they were good people to have on your side, but right now, Ryua wanted to talk.

So, she walked down the train, looking in all the different compartments for the Trio. Then she remembered that Hermionie, and either Harry or Ron were prefects by now and would be off in their special compartment. She was still pondering over which one it would be when she walked into the next compartment.

Some inner warning clicked, and she threw up a shield charm before even registering who was inside the room. A split second later, an incredible amount of nasty smelling goo splattered off her invisible wall. Wrinkling her nose at the smell, she dropped the now opaque spell to find Harry, Neville Longbottom, and some Ravenclaw girl she vaguely recognized surrounded by the gunk. "Er, bad time, Harry?"

Harry jumped, then turned around, scraping slime off his glasses as he moved. "Er... not really... depending how much you like... what's it called, Neville?"

"Mimbulus Mimbletonia. Here, let me clean some of this up... scurgify!" The bright red boy pointed his wand at the worst of the mess. To Ryua's amazement and envy, all the slime sucked towards the site of the charm and promptly disappeared.

"Nice charm, Neville," she said as she sat down on a newly cleaned seat. He mumbled something unintelligible and went back to admiring his plant. "So, I see you're not a prefect Harry, what did you do wrong?"

"I... I've been trying to figure that out, to tell you the truth. We reckon its cause I get in so much trouble. What about you? You're a model student, and it's not exactly like you've got competition."

"I got in a spot of trouble over the summer. Nothing serious in the long term, but enough that the Ministry evidently thought me unfit to carry any sort of authority. You know what I got instead, though," Ryua asked, grinning.

"No... what?"

"Team captaincy. Basically, you're dead this year, Potter."

Harry grimaced, although good-naturedly. "Yeah, I bet you're better than Flint."

"But of course."

"Not so ruthless, though, right?"

"Oh, I wouldn't say I'm not ruthless..." Ryua said, examining her nails. "But I don't think you'll all get quite so badly beat up this year, either. Well, illegally anyway."

For some reason, Harry hadn't heard about her little episode over the summer. Of course, Lucius had paid the Prophet well to keep it quiet, but still, he had seen her in the Ministry. Not that she was going to complain if he didn't want to know. They'd all find out eventually. In the meantime, Ryua leaned over the girl's shoulder, who had introduced herself as "Loony" in a singsong, dreamy voice, and started trying to see if she could really puzzle some meaning out of the kumquat curse in her magazine.

Author's Note: To Periazhad: The fifth book is a period of change. She'll be going over to one side or the other. In fact, I'm kind of torn which, so I'm thinking of an AU story too.


	11. The New Teacher

Someday, I will own something of great value. This will not be Harry Potter, as J K Rowling already owns it.

The New Teacher

Ryua sat back in her seat, utterly astounded. "Loony? Or whatever your name is? Where does your father get his information?"

"Hmm? What do you mean?"

"This article. The one with the curse about turning your enemy's ears into kumquats. It's one of the most potent transformation spells I've ever seen. You can alter it to turn any part of the body into any citrus fruit of your choice. I've read the original spell, but it's not exactly in a book you could buy in Flourish and Blotts."

"Oh. Well, he just gets it from friends, and books, and stuff."

"Stuff? Which books? Who are his friends?"

"You know... stuff. Books. Friends."

Shaking her head, Ryua turned to face Harry, who looked utterly bored. "Well, Harry, I'll see you in class, I'm sure, but I have to get to a Slytherin compartment before we stop."

"Yeah, bye." Harry said, pulling himself out of a near-nap.

Ryua had no trouble getting back to the Slytherin end, slipping into a compartment containing Ashley Snape and Cassie Darkwind. "There you two are!" she said, sitting down on the seat as if she'd been spending the entire ride looking for them and was now thoroughly exhausted.

"Hi, Ryua." Cassie said, cramming a few chocolate frogs into already full pockets.

"What's up?" Ashley said, from her bench where she was cursing flies off the ceiling.

"Well, I seem to remember you both being interested in quidditch, yes?" The two girls stopped their previous activities and swung around to watch her. "I'll take that as a yes, then. It turns out that the quidditch team is short three chasers."

"Really?"

"Who's the captain? Will he let us on?"

"Yes. Me. And, yes. That is, if you do well enough at tryouts..." she was interrupted by a chorus of excited squeals. Before, it hadn't mattered how good a girl was, she wasn't getting on that team. If Ryua hadn't smuggled her way on, it'd still be that way. Now, though, she smiled and said, "Well, I guess I'll just have to let you know when tryouts are, won't I?"

"Yeah. This is so cool!"

Ashley leaned back on her bench and said, "I'm surprised Dumbledore let you have the position."

"Why? What'd she do?" Cassie asked, whipping around to face her friend.

"Don't you read the Daily Prophet?"

"Just the cartoons."

"You'll never learn anything that way. Ryua got in a bit of trouble with the Ministry."

"Really? Doing what?" Cassie asked, spinning around to face Ryua again.

She sighed. "I was attacked by Blaise Zabini. When he... was really getting dangerous, I killed him. By accident."

"Ohh..." her eyes got very wide, and she edged down the seat.

"Oh, Cassie, unless you actually try to attack me down a side street in Knockturn Alley, you're perfectly safe."

"Knockturn Alley?" Ashley asked, "What were you doing there?"

"What do you think I was doing there?"

"Probably the worst I can think of."

"Actually, I was shopping for potion ingredients. Really." Ryua said, noticing the doubtful look on Ashley's face.

"Anyway... we're here!" Cassie said, looking out the window.

"Good, I'm starving." Ryua said, getting up.

Outside, it was dark, but dry at least. As Ryua walked over to the carriages, rubbing at her wrists, which still itched, she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. She glanced up, and stared. There were very, very eerie looking beasts standing there, harnessed to the previously horseless carriages. Black and scaly, with huge, powerful wings and gleaming white eyes, they stood perfectly still in line. At least, until she got closer to the carriages.

In a wave, the creature's heads swiveled around to look at her, blank eyes staring, nostrils dilating. Ryua pulled her wand and kept it hidden in her sleeve as she moved behind Cassie towards a carriage. The creature harnessed to it craned its neck around, but couldn't quite reach her. "Do either of you see anything pulling the carriages?"

"Pulling the carriages? No."

"There's something there?"

"Yes." Said a new voice. The three girls whirled around to see Millicent Bulstrode climbing on the carriage. Ryua noticed the creature didn't even flick its ear.

"What are they, Millicent?"

"Don't know. Thought I was crazy."

"Because no one else could see them." Ryua moved over on the seat to make room for the much larger Millicent.

"Yeah."

"How long have you seen them for?"

"First year."

"So, they aren't dangerous, or anything?"

"Don't know."

"Can anyone else see them?"

"You can."

Ryua sighed. It was good to know she wasn't insane, but she wished there was someone a bit, well, brighter to talk about it with. "I mean, anyone other than you and I."

"Don't know."

"Have you asked the teachers? No, no, dumb question." Millicent never talked to anyone unless she really had to. "I guess I'll just have to start asking around, then."

"Just don't forget about letting us on the quidditch team, okay?" Cassie piped up.

Ryua smiled, shaking her head and trying her hardest not to think about the creature just in front of her pulling the carriage up to the school.

Ryua's confused thoughts did fly right out of her head as soon as she saw who was seated at the teacher's table, to be replaced by horror. "What's Delores Umbrage doing here?"

"Who?"

"That woman, beside Dumbledore in that awful pink sweater. She works for the Ministry."

"How should I know?" Ashley said as she sat down at the Slytherin table.

"Ashley, you're acting different this year. What happened to you over the summer?"

"Uncle Sev's been in some serious trouble. He keeps coming home exhausted and hurt, and he won't tell me why. Not that I can't guess," she added darkly.

"I'm sorry. My father's been acing odd too. Some days he's elated, you couldn't make him angry if you tried. And then others, he... well, the resurrection is certainly changing the world around, isn't it?"

"Shh!" Cassie said, as McGonnagall set the hat down on its customary stool. It launched off into not it's usual explanation of the four houses, but a much longer song about how they would need to unify the school, mend the rifts between the houses. It was met with silence, followed quickly by whispers among the students. This didn't seem to perturb McGonnagall much, as she started reading off the list of first years as if nothing had happened. Ryua could see her hands held the parchment just a little tighter than usual, however.

And that wasn't the most unusual thing at the feast. Dumbledore stood up and started in on his usual speech, and just when he was about to announce times for quidditch tryouts, Professor Umbrage stood up and gave a little cough, which Ryua thought sounded rather like a kneazle with a hairball. And much to everyone's surprise, Dumbledore sat down and looked up at her with an intent listening expression.

And then, she started talking. About three sentences in, Ryua zoned out, barely catching the general gist of it. It was much more interesting to watch the reactions of everyone else. Most people started talking, although Hermionie was paying attention, along with the teachers. Ryua caught just enough of the speech to get a sense of worry starting deep in her gut. Umbrage was talking about changes, and pruning things down. For most of Slytherin house, this would have no effect. The ministry was in denial about The Dark Lord, so the Death Eater families were safe. And, a lot of them were rich, and were not going to be in the pruning.

Ryua on the other hand, had already been singled out by Umbrage as a troublemaker. Of the worst kind, for that matter, a murderer. Never mind that she hadn't actually meant to do it, she had. And, more to the point, she hadn't been the least bit regretful, and would do it again. Delores Umbrage couldn't prove that, but she knew it, knew it as well as Ryua. _Well,_ she thought grimly,_ I've faced down my father loads of times. Even if she legally could touch me, she has nowhere near the imagination he does. We'll just have to see, won't we?_


	12. Monday Morning

Someday, I will own something of great value. This will not be Harry Potter, as J K Rowling already owns it.

Monday Morning

Ryua opened her eyes the next morning and sighed happily to see the familiar green bedcurtains and quilts. She didn't have to worry about her father, or finding something to do out of the way today. She actually had something to do that she was looking forward to. Except that she'd have to explain to Professor Snape why she hadn't finished his essay.

_Now, how am I going to do that?_ Ryua thought as she pulled on her school robes. _I don't really want to tell him... although he probably would understand. But, I just don't want to tell anyone...Oh, dear Salazar, what am I going to say?_

_Well, I could start off asking him about those creatures. He'd know, if anyone would. I wonder where Hagrid went, he'd be the type to know too._ She got up to breakfast early, and found herself wandering past the Gryffindor entrance. Ryua paused as she heard the Trio talking. "Yes, Lavender thinks so too," Hermionie said coming down the stairs, followed by Ron and a very peeved looking Harry.

"Thinks what?" Ryua said falling into step beside them.

"That I'm a liar and slightly insane." Harry said with a sigh.

"About what?"

The three of them looked at her with incredulous expressions. "About You-Know-Who coming back."

"Oh, right! Sorry, it's very much a reality at my place. I mean, my father's been strutting around like, well, like the Dark Lord's come back and he's the right hand of the biggest power in the world again. Well, Harry, if it's any consolation, no one in Slytherin thinks you're a liar!"

"Thanks," he said dryly. There was a slight smile on his face, however, and Ryua knew he was feeling very tired of being ignored and persecuted.

"So, what's the news about classes?"

Ron let out a rather disgusted noise. "It's the worst Monday in the history of days. History of Magic, Double Potions, Divination..."

"And to top it all off, Double DADA with that Umbrage female." Harry finished, sounding utterly depressed.

"Ouch. You hate her too?"

"Yes... what do you mean, too?"

Ryua turned a jump into a nonchalant shrug. "Oh, she just... rubs me the wrong way. Although, I've got Double Charms instead... I'd trade you."

"Sounds good..."

Hermionie stomped on Harry's half-hearted response, saying, "Harry, you can't go trading classes."

"Oh, Hermioinie, you are just such a stickler for rules now you've got that shiny red badge." Ryua grinned to take away the sting and skipped off to her own table.

Slytherin had Herbology first, which wasn't bad. It wasn't her favourite class, but Ryua generally didn't have any troubles. The Flameblossom pods, normally quick to burn anything within range, quietened down incredibly quickly when she doused an escapee with a quick jet of water.

And her good mood continued through the next class, Potions. Ryua was plunked with Crabbe again, so she couldn't talk to the Trio, but she cheerfully directed her partner in chopping and grinding things (one of his best talents) as she handled the much more intricate job of mixing. _I do wish he'd be less nasty to Harry, though._

Snape had just evaporated Harry's cauldron. _Pity, it could have been a lot worse than that. Hellebore isn't the most important ingredient..._Goyle's potion exploded two desks down, drenching him and Millicent in flaming liquid. Between Ryua, Draco, and Snape, everyone managed to avoid much in the way of burns, although neither of them had anything to hand in afterwards. Ryua jotted down the essay memo in her book and held back at the end of class. "Sir?"

"Ryua. It's good to see you again."

She grinned. "You too."

"...This isn't just an exchange of pleasantries, is it?"

"Not exactly." Ryua sat down on a desk, facing him. "I actually have two things..."

"Oh?"

"Sir, what is pulling those carriages?"

Snape's eyes narrowed in confusion, then opened fully again. "Of course. I apologize, I had just assumed you... They are called Thestrals."

"And why can't anyone else see them?"

"That's not precisely true. I have been able to see them for years, along with most of the teachers. And, there are a handful of students... Potter, for instance."

"You haven't answered my question. And why do they like me? They don't even look at anyone else."

Snape got that strange look on his face, the one that seemed to be full of sorrow, of guilt. "Well, the only ones who can see them are those who have witnessed a death, a death of one of their own kind."

"Oh. Well, that would make sense, then. So, why do they watch me?"

"Frankly, I'm not entirely sure." He ran his fingers through his hair, thinking. "In the past, it has been believed that seeing a Thestral is an omen of death. Now, we know it is the other way around, of course."

"Do they watch anyone else?"

"People covered in blood."

"Lovely."

"I'm serious. They eat fresh blood and raw meat." Snape paused, as a thought came into his head. "Actually, it might have something to do with that. They have watched me since... for years."

"Sir, you're editing your sentences again. Just tell me."

"Since I became a Death Eater. I think they are attracted to those who have spilled blood, someone else's lifeblood."

"Well isn't that cheery." Ryua sighed. She'd been having such a good day.

"What's the second thing?"

"Second... oh, right. I... haven't finished that essay yet. Could I have an extra day or two?"

"Of course, Ryua." She was just about to leave, when he said, "Two days, to write an essay you couldn't write over two months?"

"I... um..."

"What did he do to you now?"

"Nothing! I mean, nothing that actually interfered with my writing. I just broke my hand, that's all."

"You broke your hand."

"Yes."

"You have house elves, correct?"

"Yes."

"And the elves couldn't heal it?"

"... well, it took a few weeks to get back to full..."

"A few weeks?" Snape's expression was livid as he glowered from behind his desk. "Ryua, natural breaks don't take a few weeks of elf-medicine to heal. Give me your hands."

"Sir, he honestly didn't break it..."

"Now!" he snapped. Ryua grudgingly held out her hands. His fingers, cool and dry, probed the bones, found the bone scar, pressed them together, and noted the difference in length. Ryua didn't even twitch, though the pressure right on the lump ached. "He manipulated the bones, didn't he?"

"I suppose you could call it that. There wasn't exactly much I'd call bones right then..."

"He's extremely lucky you weren't crippled. That elf of yours deserves a spot in St. Mungoes, for the work it did. You don't have other family you could live with, do you?"

"I can take care of myself."

"Ryua..."

"I said, I can take care of myself. It's nothing I can't handle. I'm fine. Okay?"

"As you wish." He released her hands, watching her stride out of his classroom, jarring stride betraying her worry. _Lucius had better watch his back. If the war doesn't kill him, Ryua will, and if she doesn't, I will._


	13. Monday Afternoon

Someday, I will own something of great value. This will not be Harry Potter, as J K Rowling already owns it.

Monday Afternoon

Ryua stalked up from the dungeons, desperately hoping the afternoon would be better. Once she crossed into the Great Hall, however, she saw it wasn't about to start turning up yet.

The only seat was between Crabbe and Goyle. From the best possible point of view, it was the safest place for a Malfoy to sit. Ryua didn't care. They had table manners of pigs. She walked mincingly up to the bench, flicked off a few crumbs and a blob of potato salad, and slid into the seat. Likewise, she wiped off her plate and goblet before she dished up some food, and pulled it as close to her as possible and leaned way over to try and keep her food marginally clean. Mostly, she just inhaled the food as quickly as possible, disgustedly ignored her water, which had just been invaded by a glob of applesauce, and got up to leave early.

She spent the last third of her lunch hour waiting outside the Arithmancy class, trying to think cheerful thoughts. Luckily, she only had twenty minutes to get depressed at how few happy memories she had before the other students arrived. Ryua dropped onto the seat beside Hermione with a sigh, pulling out her textbook, which weighed nearly as much as her cauldron this year.

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked, struggling with her own books.

"Yeah. It's just been a long day, that's all. And these new books, the amount of stuff we'll have to memorize is just depressing."

"Okay." Hermione looked like she'd have asked more, but Professor Vector started talking, and neither of them wanted to risk not hearing something. Ryua was quite glad about this, and bent to the assignment immediately, absently rubbing her wrist as she wrote. "Ryua, did you hurt your hand?"

_Oops. _"No."

"You sure? You're rubbing it like it hurts."

"It's fine... really."

"Okay..." Hermione turned back to her work, flipping through the numerous charts in her book. Ryua relaxed and started writing, then reached forward to dip her quill in the ink. A hand reached out and snatched hers on the way back. "What happened to your wrist?" Hermione's panicked voice said.

"Nothing."

"Ryua, that's a deep scar. It wasn't there last year."

"No kidding. I hadn't noticed."

"Come on, tell me..." Ryua looked up into pleading eyes. Hermione really seemed to want to know. _I don't know why she would. Obviously, it's nothing good..._

"Oh, fine! Just keep your voice down." Ryua said, voice just a bare whisper. "I'm sure you actually read the Daily Prophet, right?"

"Of course."

"Keep writing! Vector'll come over here and ask why we aren't working."

"Sorry."

"You might have seen an article in the paper, about a Hogwarts student being murdered by another one."

"Yes, of course. They didn't release any names though."

Ryua snorted, copying numbers out of her text. "Of course not. The Ministry's well paid to keep stuff like that quiet."

"Well paid? By who? Who has the money to bribe the Ministry?"

"Am I telling this story or are you? I'd really prefer not to, you know, so stop interrupting."

"Sorry."

"The student killed was Blaise Zabini. I killed him."

"You?" Hermione said, much louder that Ryua would have liked.

"Yes me, and keep your voice down!" she hissed.

"Sorry. You?"

"He attacked me, down an alley. I panicked, and overshot. Instead of stunning him, I threw him into the wall so hard it broke his head open."

Hermione blanched, then swallowed and said, "But, Ryua, I've never known you to miscalculate anything. Especially not when you're dueling."

"I wasn't dueling."

"You weren't? I don't believe you. I wouldn't want to take my chances with you in a dark alley, by myself. You don't just give up a battle, I know you. Where did you get those scars?"

Ryua was silent a moment, just methodically filling in her table. "He had me restrained."

"Restrained? Why? How'd he manage that?"

"Damn it, Hermione, he was trying to rape me. The little rat charmed me from behind, then locked my wrists and ankles into stone manacles. And you're right about one thing. I didn't stop fighting for an instant. I'd had the breath knocked out of me, and my wand down the alley. And I don't know if you've ever tried to breathe with broken ribs and someone's tongue down your throat while he crushes you into a brick wall, but it doesn't work. I didn't care. I pulled so hard, I tore my hands almost to the bone, and still couldn't get free. Eventually, something snapped, and I used raw magic to throw him off of me. If the angle had been different, he would have made it almost out of Knockturn, likely had a concussion, and half a dozen broken bones. As it was, the wall was exactly four feet away." Ryua said savagely, grinding her quill tip into her parchment. _And if I'd had a choice, I would do it again..._

Hermione was stunned, Ryua could tell. She wasn't even pretending to write anymore, and couldn't appear to think of anything to say. _Man, and I thought coming back to school would be a good thing._ Hermione shook her head and started writing again, before someone noticed the teacher's pet wasn't working. "I... I don't have any idea what you say to something like that... I'm sorry."

"Well it's done now, and I was judged not guilty. And, it's not your fault," Ryua said in a softer tone of voice, as she filed her now-blunted quill back to a writing tip. "I really have been having a bad day. I just hoped I could forget about it here."

"O-of course. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up."

"It's not your fault. Just... don't go telling people, about what he did. I really would like to forget he ever existed."

"No problem. I won't tell."

"Harry and Ron will ask eventually. They aren't dumb."

"No... I guess they will."

Ryua sighed, setting down her razor-sharp quill. "Just don't tell them why I killed him. Our names will come out eventually, but I just want it to be known as self-defense, okay?"

"Okay." They worked in silence for a minute, then Hermione asked, "So, what class do you have next?"

Ryua smiled, glad to be thinking about something so mundane. "Charms. My most hated class."

"Well, at least Flitwick's a good teacher."

"Yeah. Hey, did I tell you how I passed my final last year?"

"No, how?"

"Well..."

Author's Note: Thanks to Me, for pointing out I've been spelling Hermione and Umbridge wrong. I hadn't noticed, because my computer doesn't like either version of Hermione/ie. And it thinks umbrage is a word, and it's pronounced the same. Not to mention, I don't have a copy of the fifth book of my own...


	14. Classes Don't Get Better

Someday, I will own something of great value. This will not be Harry Potter, as J K Rowling already owns it.

Classes Don't Get Better

It was Transfiguration the next morning, which was all right. Not wonderful, as Ryua's snail was very stubbornly not vanishing, but McGonnagall also said it was a difficult spell. And the amount of work she said was on the way for their OWLs... well, that was just plain depressing.

And then, to make matters worse, there was double DADA. Normally, Ryua would look forward to this class. Lupin, and the maniac Death Eater-Moody had been really good, and even Lockhart and possessed Quirrell had been slack enough that she could comfortably goof off while still getting good marks. This year, she was only hoping for the latter kind of teacher.

When she walked into class, and carefully took a seat not on the front, sides, or back, but not in the direct center either, her hopes for even that plummeted. "Wands away please, and quills out," came the squeaky voice of Umbridge.

"Well, at least we can curse our way through anything on that OWL this year, eh?" Ryua said in a whisper as she pulled out parchment, quill, and ink.

"True, but we're supposed to know defense, not the Dark Arts themselves." Draco whispered back.

"...Right... wonderful." Ryua glumly copied down the course aims. _Understanding the principles of defensive magic, eh?_ Lovely. Like that would be any help. They would really need to learn the spells, or they would be in very, very real danger.

_Learning to recognize situations...what?_ Ryua privately thought that any time you were being attacked by Death Eaters (or Ministry wizards, depending on your alignment) was a very good time to use magic. Of course, her private tastes ran much more towards the attack, not defense.

_Practical use... hmm, let's think about that one for a second. Maybe, getting attacked? Just how dumb does she think we are? Crabbe and Goyle know the answer to that one._

"Now, does everyone have a copy of "Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?"

"No, we all thought we should bring Lockhart's entire set instead," Ryua said in a very low, sarcastic undertone as she pulled out the book.

"Now, come on, when I ask a question, I expect an answer, either Yes Professor Umbridge, or No Professor Umbridge. Let's try it again..."

As she asked if everyone had the book again, Ryua said, "Well, I'd definitely like No Professor Umbridge... Yes Professor Umbridge," she chorused with the rest, fighting down the urge to make a face.

"Excellent. Please start reading at Chapter one, page five."

Ryua opened the book, ignoring the fact she'd already read it through briefly during her long immurement in her room over the summer. Excellent. Please start reading at Chapter one, page five."

Ryua opened the book, ignoring the fact she'd already read it through briefly during her long immurement in her room over the summer. _Yep, just as dull as I remember..._ She fought through the chapter, eventually just giving up and doodling on a piece of parchment while gazing studiously at her book. By the time Ryua had finished drawing Goyle sprawled in his desk, staring blankly at the title page of the chapter, she couldn't stand it anymore. She raised her hand, not really expecting a response.

What she hadn't taken into account was that with her hair pulled back and head bent down, she looked exactly like Draco, who was snoozing on his book. So, Umbridge, thinking she was the "better twin" immediately asked, "Yes, Mr. Malfoy, what is it?"

After a quick glance at her oblivious brother, Ryua realized she was being addressed. "Actually, Professor, Umbridge, I'm Ryua. ...Are we going to do any studying this year?"

"Of course dear. It says so on the board."

Her hand still raised (Ryua had had 'How to talk to superiors' drilled into her head for a long time) she said, "Actually ma'am, I was talking about using spells. If we're expected to pass our OWLs..."

"You should be fine with just studying the theory. IF you do it thoroughly enough..."

"I wasn't finished. If we're expected to pass our OWLs, or not get killed..."

"Where on earth would you be expected to get killed, my dear?" Instead of being irritated with being interrupted, Umbridge appeared to be more worried about her students expecting an attack."

Draco was fully awake now, and was trying to pull down her arm, seeing where this was going. Ryua shook him off and looked sweetly at the toady woman staring at her with beady little eyes. "In the outside world, Professor Umbridge. We're living in a dangerous time, in case you hadn't noticed."

"There is nothing different about the world we live in. All of you are perfectly safe, the Ministry guarantees it."

Ryua threw back her head in exasperation. "Honestly woman, do you expect any of us to believe that? He's back. We all know it. And we'd like to live through our next summer, if the Ministry doesn't mind."

For a minute, Ryua actually thought Umbridge was going to explode. She got bright red, and her already round, flabby face seemed to inflate. "I will not have any of these _lies_ repeated in my classroom. I had hoped that this class would be much more intelligent than certain other ones I've had to teach."

"They are not lies. Of course, I doubt you would have the intelligence to notice that."

Immediately, Ryua knew she'd gone too far. Umbridge said, in a low, angry voice, "Detention. To be served over the next week. Report to me after dinner."

"Yes, Professor Umbridge..." Ryua muttered, letting her hand drop back down to her desk. _Just what I needed. I've got two Potions essays, Transfiguration review, extra research as well as practice for Charms... and I'm not even finished the day yet. I am going to have to start sleeping in class, and working all night long. Oh, no... I've got Quidditch tryouts... time to go wheedle with Snape a bit..._

She'd have to wait until lunch, unfortunately. The double period dragged on, with Ryua spending some of it drawing various objects lying around the room, and most of it imagining nasty things to do to Umbridge. Her fertile, well-nurtured imagination could have filled three rolls of parchment by the time they were let out of class. Rather than go directly to lunch, she slipped down to the dungeons, managing to catch Snape on his way upstairs.

He wasn't particularly happy. After a bit of shameless pleading on her part, however, Ryua managed to convince him to tell Umbridge Ryua already had to serve Detention with him for the early part of the evening. She'd been hoping to get all the way out of it, but just long enough for Tryouts would have to do.

After wolfing down her sandwiches and juice, since convincing Snape had taken most of the hour, Ryua walked out to Care of Magical Creatures, with a slightly more cheerful outlook.

Which was actually not nearly as bad as her previous classes. Ryua was a little thrilled to have an assignment of drawing a bowtruckle. That was something she could finish during class, and scratch another bit of homework. Harry and Draco seemed to be having no such ease, and were getting into a minor shouting match about Hagrid. Ryua was slightly worried about him, but was just too busy to care right now.

In History of magic, Ryua bribed Draco to take down legible notes, while she flew through one of her Potions essays. She'd gotten the rough copy completely done, and was halfway through scribing it onto clean parchment by the time the bell had rung, releasing them. Ryua got Cassie to make a copy of Draco's notes (she was actually good at charming things), handed them both a Honeydukes' chocolate bar from her private stash, and started writing out her essay. Draco dragged her up from the common room for supper, after which, she had no choice but to go to detention.

She was there ten minutes early, but found Umbridge already waiting. "Nice to see someone's punctual. Now, please sit down, and pick up your quill."

Ryua's eyes traveled to the desk she was indicating and saw the all-too familiar quill. "No." she said flatly, "Those things are illegal."

"You recognize it, I see?"

"Of course I do. You know what kind of a person I am. And I am never touching one of those again. You can't make me."

"I think if you look at the Ministry for Magic Educational Decree #19, you'll see that as a representative of the Ministry, I am allowed to use whatever means necessary to ensure my students maintain a proper attitude towards learning."

"I don't believe you."

"You should, my dear." Umbridge rummaged around in her desk, coming up with an official looking piece of parchment. "As you can see, it is indeed within my rights. I was planning to introduce this to the other teachers to let them know of their new abilities tonight, but you've filled up my evening."

Ryua carefully scanned the parchment. The Minister's seal and signature, the quality of the parchment and ink, and the gold-embossed detail in the corner... they all checked out. _Damn._ With a snarl, Ryua shoved the parchment back at Umbridge and swung into her seat. "What do you want me to write?"

"Oh, since you've already done this before, I believe we'll just continue with that."

"I will act as befits my station?" Ryua said bitterly, rubbing the faint lines across her palm._ She's just too lazy to change the setting from what it was before. Pathetic._

"Yes, that should do nicely. You may start."

Ryua watched the clock until it read exactly five o'clock before she started, knowing that every second of perfectly legal rebellion would infuriate her more. And as she touched the quill to the page, Ryua felt the familiar sting, and knew if she turned her hand over, she'd see fine lines being cut directly on top of the old scars. She'd gotten through five rounds when the door opened again.

"Ahh, Mr. Potter. So nice of you to join us." Ryua carefully didn't look up or stop writing, but she paid very close attention to their voices. "Well, sit down."

"Er, Professor Umbridge. Er-before we start, I-I wanted to ask you a...a favour."

"Oh, yes?"

"Well, I'm...I'm in the Gryffindor Quidditch team. And I was supposed to be at the tryouts..." Ryua heard him say. _And he wouldn't have a teacher he could get to get him out of it. Poor guy._

Sure enough, Umbridge responded exactly as she was expected. Ryua could almost feel waves of hate coming off Harry, coupled with frustration because he knew he couldn't actually do anything. "There, we're getting better at controlling our temper already, aren't we?" Umbridge said, in her sickly sweet voice. Now, you are going to be doing some lines for me, Mr. Potter. No, not with your own quill. You're going to be using a rather special one of mine."

_She wouldn't..._But Ryua heard her say, "Oh, you won't need any ink," and then Harry's gasp of pain and surprise. Meanwhile, she was still writing, over and over, cutting through the old scars down to tender flesh. She knew she wouldn't drip blood onto the page tonight, but by tomorrow, or maybe the next day...

And she wrote. Again and again, _I will act as befits my station,_ over and over, lines of fire cutting into her palm. _I'd forgotten how much I hated this..._ Still, when Umbridge called them up, Ryua waited until Harry had left before she rose. When Umbridge asked for her hand, Ryua made sure to extend the left one, making her ask for the right hand. She fought down a shudder as the woman traced a finger across the tender skin, for she knew Umbridge would take it as a sign of weakness. "If I may leave, now," Ryua said, picking up her bag with her left hand and walking out without waiting for a reply. _Looks like all that practice with my left hand will pay off..._


	15. Detention and Tryouts

Someday, I will own something of great value. This will not be Harry Potter, as J K Rowling already owns it.

Detention and Tryouts

As Lucius had ensured much earlier in her life that the blood quills would write onto her palm, Ryua was able to hide it fairly easily. As the week went on, however, she was running into trouble.

Even with a fully functional hand, the amount of fast, non-stop writing she had to do would have cramped her fingers. Classes were best, simply because they were generally a lot warmer than the Slytherin Common room, and the cauldrons in Potions gave off a lot of heat. Ryua had taken to paying a minimum of attention to her teachers, and just trying her best to do homework at a fantastic rate. What she couldn't do during class, she wrote in the Great Hall over meals, or in the Common room before breakfast and after detention. The cold down in the dungeons, however, ate right through to the bones of her last three fingers; building from a dull twinge to a nearly incapacitating ache the longer she spent writing in the cold.

And the longer she spend carving 'I will act as befits my station' into her palm, the less her skin wanted to be bent, or worse, touched. By Wednesday, Ryua was using her left hand for everything but writing again, as it also fixed the problem of leaving blood smears on things. She'd taken to wearing gloves, the right with a bit of clean, absorbent cloth to soak up the weeping blood on her palm. No one asked about a dungeon resident wearing gloves, either.

Until Thursday, when she went to the lovely, warm solar for Arithmancy. Ryua didn't have a choice about paying attention to the lesson; Arithmancy just demanded your full attention, as well as a certain amount of time. It wasn't until halfway through the class, when Vector released them for assignment work that Hermione asked why she was wearing gloves. "I'm cold." Ryua said, maybe a little too sharply.

"Well, excuse me for asking. You know, if you're cold in here, maybe you should see Madam Pomfrey. Maybe you're sick."

"I'm not sick," Ryua said, her face a mask of concentration while she tried very hard not to wince while she wrote.

"Then why are you wearing gloves?"

"Because I want to, alright?"

"Ryua..."

"Hermione, what is it with you? Why can't you ever just take my at my word?"

"When was the last time you actually said what you meant?"

Ryua held an exasperated growl down to a quiet level. "I really have been cold, and the gloves keep my hands warm enough to write in the dungeons through the wee hours of the morning, alright?"

"... Why are you doing homework that late?"

"Detention."

"Oh..." Hermione said, then turned back as something occurred to her. "You're in detention with Umbridge?"

"Yes."

"We know, me and Ron, about what she does to you..."

"Really. Being prefects, you're supposed to supervise detention too?"

"No, we saw Harry's hand!"

Ryua was quiet for a moment. "How's he holding up?" she asked, quietly.

"Probably not as well as he says."

"Hah. Didn't think she would get to him that easily."

"So, that's why you're wearing the gloves."

"That, and it's really cold in the dungeons. They really do keep my fingers warmer."

"Writing's getting hard, eh?"

"You could say that. And to boot, I've got Quidditch tryouts tomorrow evening, after which I get to go carve my skin some more!" Ryua put down her quill and rested her head on her arms. "I am so, so far behind, and I can't keep going like this. I need to sleep..."

Next to her, Hermione paused in her writing. "You know... This is an optional group project, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I think so..."

"Well, then I'll just do it, for the both of us. You sleep, or do something else. I won't tell."

"Really?" Ryua lifted her head up, an incredulous expression on her face. "I owe you like the biggest chocolate bar in the world..."

"Yeah, yeah, just worry about it after you're done detention, okay?"

"Okay..." Ryua had already pulled out a DADA essay, and started carefully writing it out. These were also the only bits of work Ryua could write without using a bandage on her hand. Umbridge didn't care if there were bloodstains.

_And there are going to be a lot more of those after tonight._ Ryua thought as she wrote the old, familiar, hated words over and over, under the watchful eye of Umbridge. She didn't even look over at Harry, whom she knew by now would have a visible cut across the back of his hand. Just writing, forcing down any acknowledgement of pain, any outward reaction, just grinding the quill tip across the paper, feeling it etch into her palm, deeper and deeper, wishing she were cutting across that woman's face. _I hate her. I hate her to the depths of my soul, and I wish I could spend a few days killing her. I hate her..._Over and over, she cursed Umbridge in her head, wishing she dared do it with her wand. And the moment Umbridge opened her mouth to tell them they could go, Ryua slammed down her quill and stormed out without even stopping to look at her. She cradled her hand, and realized Filch would get Mrs. Norris to track her down by scent if she bled on the floor, so she ducked into a bathroom and fished through her bag with her left hand, keeping her right held tight against her stomach, thanking whomever was up there that school robes were black.

She'd found Dobby two days ago, and gotten him to lift some bandages from the sick room. Ryua ran cold water over her hand, clenching her teeth against the sting until it started to go numb. Before she attracted the attentions of the less savory inhabitants of Hogwarts, she pressed a folded up bandage into her palm and using teeth and her wand, managed to get another well wrapped around her hand, hopefully creating enough pressure to stop the bleeding by tomorrow. _Good thing Hermione took over Arithmancy... I couldn't write now without leaving bloodstains, even with the bandage. _Although she felt a little guilty, Ryua gladly accepted the reason to sleep, and was asleep even before she lay down all the way.

She woke up in the morning to see her bandage definitely needed to be changed, but it was just slowly weeping blood from the letters. Once she had her shower, Ryua managed to look at the time, and with a groan, noticed it was only seven thirty yet. No one would be awake for ages.

So, Ryua went for a walk. To the kitchens, in fact, the only place in the school where there would be anyone awake. She didn't really have any plans in mind, until she, without thinking, used her right hand to tickle the pair and turn the doorknob. With no one around to see, she winced, and realized she'd have to do something about her hand before tryouts this evening. If using a door was this painful, she didn't even want to think about catching a quaffle, or hitting a bludger.

When Dobby came running over, squealing with happiness, Ryua brought it up. "Dobby, do you elves have anything to numb pain?"

"Why does miss need it? So Dobby can get the right stuff?"

"I have to play quidditch tonight, and I've got a... sore hand."

"Dobby has the right stuff, miss, Dobby will be back. Does miss need anything else?"

Ryua sighed, leaning back on an elf-sized chair. "Not unless you elves can charm quills to write while I dictate."

"We elves can write, miss!" Dobby squeaked happily.

"You can? Really? Could you copy my handwriting?"

"Pretty close, miss," Dobby said, scratching one long ear as he thought. "Does miss need help with her homework?" he said slyly.

"Oh, Dobby, you are a lifesaver. If you want, I'll pick you up any color of socks you can imagine next time I get to Hogsmeade!"

"Well, Dobby does like socks, miss... What does miss need done?"

By breakfast time, Ryua had Charms and Transfiguration finished, and had left her rough copies for Potions with Dobby. Stowing a tiny bottle of numbing cream in her book bag, she went up to join her table with a much more cheerful outlook than before.

Not even DADA first class could dampen her spirits. Ryua just ignored Umbridge (which wasn't hard to do, given that she just told them to read a chapter) and doodled in the margins of her book. She handed her homework in for Umbridge, sliding it under Pansy's to hide a few smears of blood that leaked through while she'd written it.

Charms wasn't exactly uplifting, but she did get to hand in the roll of questions Dobby had scribed for her. Dobby sent up her first Potions essay on her plate at lunch, which meant Potions went over wonderful. She noticed Harry looking rather depressed, though he was already partnered up with Ron so she couldn't go bug him. His hand looked sore though, and he didn't make any bones about having it wrapped up.

Transfiguration just melted away, although she did get another essay assigned. Since Fridays didn't have a double class, Ryua had an extra hour before dinner to start it. And even more cheerful, after dinner, she went _down_stairs, and pulled on her Quidditch robes, tied her hair up, and spread Dobby's cream on her palm. She slipped it into a pocket and went over to the boy's dorm to hammer on Draco's door until he came out. "Come on! We have to get up there, or Gryffindor will come in halfway through practice, demanding we give them the pitch."

"Alright, alright, I'm coming." Draco came out, looking just as happy as she did to be back in Quidditch robes again. They stopped by Snape's office to pick up the brooms (neither of them had trusted seven Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones to the school cupboard), and got to the center of the field just as Hufflepuff polished off their tryouts. Cassie and Ashley were first, the former bouncing forward, dragging the latter after her. Crabbe and Goyle slouched onto the field, exactly at the time they were told to arrive. For a panicked moment, Ryua thought they would only get those four, but then saw a handful more prospective chasers walk onto the field.

She waited till they were all clustered loosely around her, then said, just loud enough to make the two seventh-year boys jump, "Okay! You're here for the house team, right?"

"Yep!" came Cassie's exuberant response above the others' slightly more calm affirmations.

"Good." Ryua grinned. "Are any of you here for beaters? Other than you two, of course," she said, gesturing at Crabbe and Goyle. Apparently, word of her plan for recruiting them had spread, because no one raised a hand. Excellent. Crabbe. Goyle. These are yours. You use them to hit these balls..." Draco opened the crate and pointed out the Bludgers, "At everyone on the pitch wearing red, blue, or yellow."

They grinned, hefting the bats. Ryua had carefully planned that explanation so they would understand exactly what needed to be done, and to be excited about it.

"Now that that's settled, I want the rest of you on brooms. Draco, we'll start with a passing drill, that's something chasers need to do every once in a while." Ryua rose easily into the air, idly spinning the quaffle on her left palm, noting who actually cracked a smile. She wanted people on her team who would actually listen to her.

They were all okay. Cassie got thoroughly over excited, and fumbled the quaffle, but recovered and used her fist to lob it over to Draco. One of the seventh-years looked far too bored as he passed it on, but the other actually seemed to put some effort into catching and tossing the quaffle. When Ryua got a chance, she fired the quaffle at the bored one, noting with distaste that he actually snapped out his arm and caught it before she broke his nose. _Lovely. He had to be the good one._

Seeing that there wouldn't be a choice made from short-range stuff, Ryua sent them off around the pitch, while she and Crabbe bashed Bludgers at them. Goyle took over after a while, and she was happy to see she'd made the right choice in them, at least. _Well, unless she's really terrible at shooting, Cassie's just made her place._ All that extra energy seemed to transfer over into Quidditch. She bounced through the air like she did on land, making it hard to take a bead on her direction for either interception or beating.

With glee, she knocked the bored one on the shoulder with a bludger, noting that Goyle got him not long after. _Ah, thank you, thank you for giving me a reason to get rid of him!_ Ryua noticed Ashley get hit too, though, although she rolled back up quite well. She really wanted to have her on the team... _C'mon, Ashley, please be able to shoot..._

She was. When Ryua tossed Crabbe her bat and flew to her goalposts, while Gryffindor started to set up on the other end, Draco marshaled the five wannabe-chasers in a line, and gave instructions. Crabbe and Goyle would keep pelting with Bludgers until Johnson from Gryffindor came over and demanded the bats. Ryua paid very, very close attention to each of them, and was positively gleeful to see her particular scapegoat couldn't get up enough force to throw the distance needed for most of the shooting in a match. She signaled him down, and though he glared very nastily, he didn't argue, and left the broom on the pitch. Cassie was adequate, and she bellowed out, "Darkwind! Go see Draco about shrinking you up some robes!" She squeaked and almost fell of her broom with excitement, but, typically, recovered and sped off to where Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle were waiting.

And then, Ashley Snape fired the Quaffle at Ryua. She put out her left hand, knowing it wouldn't do a single bit of good. The ball hit her hand, and whirled her right around, and kept on going straight through the hoop. Ryua looped down and caught it, shaking out her stinging fingertips. "Where did you learn to throw like that?"

The girl's normally dark face lit up with a grin. "I'm good with accuracy."

"And with power. You're on too. Get over there, you're blocking the others."

Ryua smiled after her, then tossed the Quaffle back at the two boys. The third-year, a boy she vaguely recognized as a third cousin on her Father's side, seemed enthusiastic enough, but his accuracy left just a little to be desired. She told him to wait while she tried the seventh year. He wasn't quite as good at long receiving, but was way, way better at shooting. "Okay. Pucey, right?" Ryua asked, and continued at his nod. "You're the third chaser this year. And... I'm sorry, I should know your name..."

"Josh Treevale."

"I want you on reserve. And next year, you'll probably get Pucey's spot, once you get trained up. You both good with that?" At their nods, Ryua yelled out, "Okay, team! Dismissed! I'll find you for practices!" and glided down to the broomshed. She dropped off her broom, and meandered down to the commonroom to change. Feeling the first twinges come back into her hand, Ryua thought, _Wonderful. I wish there was a bit more stuff in Dobby's jar..._The cuts had split a bit more from exertion, and she knew her hand would ache abominably by the time Umbridge let her go.

And, taking her time so she wouldn't look like she'd been playing quidditch for the last two hours, Ryua climbed the stairs. She noticed Gryffindor was still trying keepers out the window in the growing dusk, and Harry was sneaking glances out whenever possible. "I assume your task for Professor Snape is done now?" Umbridge's voice said, not quite as sweet as usual.

"Yes Professor. If you would like to check, I went to his office directly after supper for instruction."

"Oh... that's quite alright. You may start."

Ryua could tell she was disappointed that she had actually been in Snape's office. Oh well, as long as she didn't guess where she went after that. The window grew dark, and neither of them could watch the tryouts, and still their quills scratched across parchment and flesh. About quarter to midnight, Ryua gritted her teeth as she felt the spell grind across bone. She slowed down her writing, as much as possible, to try and prevent that indescribably horrible sensation. It didn't hurt so much as feel incredibly wrong...

At the stroke of twelve, Umbridge called them up. Ryua grabbed her bag and was halfway out the door when she heard the high, irritating voice say, "Ryua, dear, you still have two hours."

Ryua fought a very quick, very violent internal battle just then. Part of her wanted to keep going, part of her wanted to turn around and hex the bitch right out of existence, and then there was that irritatingly sensible part that told her to go back and just write slowly for the next two hours, to finish it without getting in trouble.

The sensible part won. She couldn't stop her eyes rolling up, although she bit down a sigh as she moved back to the desk, ignoring Harry's apologetic gaze. She picked up the quill, and started in again.

_I will act as befits my station._

Again and again, as slowly and lightly as possible.

It wasn't good enough. The cutting spell just skated across her middle finger bone, and she braced herself for the next line.

_I will act as befits my station._

She felt it grind across the middle, skate across the ring.

_I will act as befits my station._

Grind the middle and ring, graze the pointer.

I will act as befits my sta- 

Ryua doubled over her desk, dropping the quill and cradling her hand. The quill had just dug sideways into the lump of previously shattered bone along her little finger in the palm. As much as Toppy had done, something had gone wrong in the healing. Ryua could very much feel pain in that misshapen lump.

"Is there a problem, Miss Malfoy?"

"...No... Ma'am..." Ryua said, between gasps, gripping the bump in her hand, working her fingers, trying to quicken the loss of pain.

"Well, then, continue."

The brief respite had given her at least ten lines worth of flesh to cut through. She put quill to paper, writing the lightest she could, forming the last word with utmost care and lightness. Ryua forced down a shudder when she felt the quill graze her bone. Two more lines later, she braced herself, forcing her bleeding hand onto paper, knowing she'd hit the lump again. _I will act as befits my-_

"Miss Malfoy? You may go now."

Ryua jumped. Umbridge was standing right behind her, looking over her right shoulder. _Oh, she's good..._ She'd seen Ryua's moment of pain earlier, and had been timing it, maybe even checking a charm on the quill... and was presenting her with a test. She could take the easy way out, slam down the quill and stalk out. It might even look like the most rebellious move, on the very surface.

Lucius hadn't been her father for nothing. Ryua smiled just as sweetly as the teacher standing over her, and deliberately, as slowly as she could stand, finished the line. She numbly heard angry sounding footsteps walking away, and when the pain in her hand subsided to a bearable level, she saw Umbridge furiously scribbling on some record sheet or other.

Of course, it took Ryua a good half hour to stanch the bleeding enough that she thought she could go to bed without waking up in soaked sheets.

Author's Note: I still don't really like this chapter. It should be two, but I really can't find anywhere to break it cleanly, and I'm out of time if I want to update tonight.

A note to Avalon, or anyone with suggestions that can't wait for my next chapter so you can leave a signed review, just don't log in. You can leave as many as you want that way, and I'll get them for sure, just put your Author Name in the Name box, so I know who it is.


	16. Saturday

Someday, I will own something of great value. This will not be Harry Potter, as J K Rowling already owns it.

Saturday 

Ryua woke up in her bed. She couldn't actually remember how she got there, she'd been running on automatic the night before. Her hand still throbbed, and she'd soaked through the bandage on her palm. At least she'd slept curled up around it, red pyjamas showed bloodstains a lot less than viridian sheets. _Lovely,_ Ryua thought, as she peeled back the soaked ball of cloth. The words were engraved scarlet on the reddened skin, and didn't appear likely to stop seeping blood anytime soon. _What am I going to do about this?_

Well, there wouldn't be anything in the dorms to help. She'd have to go for a walk. Ryua pulled on some casual robes, with sleeves long enough to hide her hand if certain people noticed, wrapped another ball of bandages into her palm, and went upstairs. She wandered aimlessly through the halls, vaguely heading upstairs, not really towards the hospital wing. There was no way she was going to do Umbridge's work for her and spread fear among the school. Maybe she should send for her own private stash of medical supplies. With that thought in mind, she turned up towards the owlrey.

Much to her surprise, Harry was in the same place, watching Hedwig soar out the window. "Hey, Harry. Who're you writing to?"

He jumped. "Oh. Um... just a friend. You?"

Ryua knew perfectly well he didn't have friends outside of Hogwarts. She also knew she probably shouldn't pry. "Yeah, me too." Ryua wrote down an order for the basic medic's kit for quidditch players from Which Broomstick, having angled her body unconsciously to hide her hand. She didn't even bother trying to use her right to attach the letter to her owl, but Harry noticed anyway.

"So, how bad's your hand?"

"Enough," she groaned. "If I thought I could do it without getting caught or ending up with a worse replacement, I'd arrange for Umbridge to have a tragic heart attack in the middle of my DADA class."

"I'm with you on that," Harry replied, although Ryua doubted he took her as seriously as she meant her threat. "How'd tryouts go?"

"Good, actually. You're in serious trouble come the first match. And you know I won't crap out on you, you're stuck fighting us."

"Lovely. Everyone's still the same, except Ron's on the team. He'll probably come right down to the Slytherin Common Room just to brag about it. He's just a little excited..."

"I'll bet." Ryua paused, "Harry, does Ron know where the common room is?"

"I... um, yes. He's a prefect, you see..."

"I noticed," she said, leaving a mental note to actually find out what Harry was talking about. "Which leaves us troublemakers all by ourselves during free time. Pansy and Draco are both off patrolling, which I'm pretty sure means snogging under the stairs, so that cuts out the conversation factor in my House."

Harry snorted with amusement well tempered with disgust at the thought of his arch rival doing anything along those lines. "Yeah, Hermione's always trying to drag Ron out. He's not much for the whole responsibility shindig."

"They aren't under the stairs themselves yet, are they?"

"No, not yet. For someone so intelligent, Hermione's got a lot of trouble seeing the obvious."

"And Ron's just Ron."

"Yep." Harry turned slightly to lean on the windowsill, then jumped.

"What?"

"Over the trees, right there... never mind, it's gone now."

Ryua looked out past his shoulder. _Now, it couldn't have just been an owl, could it? Harry doesn't startle that easily..._ She was about to ask if it was a thestral when Filch slouched in.

"I have a tip-off that you are intending to place a massive order for Dungbombs!"

"Who told you I was ordering Dungbombs?" Harry asked, crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall.

"I have my sources..."

"Hah. Probably my brother. I can promise you, Mr. Filch, that Harry was doing no such thing. He wrote a simple letter to a friend."

"I'll need to see this letter, Potter."

"I don't have it. I sent it."

Ryua saw Filch open his mouth. "Sir, I saw him write and send it. It was just a plain letter. You know how much my brother likes getting Harry in trouble."

Faced with two students devoutly denying what was a shady rumor at best, Filch slouched off again. "Thanks," Harry said.

"No problem. I did see you send it, after all. Er, you aren't actually ordering Dungbombs, are you?"

"No, I really was writing a letter."

"Too bad. I plan to train my beaters to actually hit things away fast, and giving them something it's important to get away quickly would help. Or to wake them up in the morning..."

"I'm glad Angelina's not quite that nasty."

"Hmm, just wait till you're captain. You'll see just now nasty you can get trying to get people to pay attention to you. See you later," Ryua said as she walked out the door.


	17. Quidditch Practice

Someday, I will own something of great value. This will not be Harry Potter, as J K Rowling already owns it.

Quidditch Practice

It was well into breakfast by the time Ryua saw any of her teammates. Later in the season, she'd start waking them up to take advantage of the empty pitch, but for now, she'd just let them know what was coming. "So, nice to see you've finally woken up."

"Come off it, Ryua. It's early Saturday morning, what do you expect?" asked Draco, pulling a basket of croissants towards him.

"Well, let's see. You are on my quidditch team, yes?"

"Yeah," Cassie said, as she shoved a plate of pancakes at Ashley, who looked like she'd rather sleep than eat.

"Well, that generally means you'll have to do quidditch practice too." Ryua said, eating a bunch of grapes. "And because there are three other teams using the pitch, we'll have to be aggressive in getting our time."

"Does this mean we can sabotage the other teams?" Puecy asked, just entering the conversation.

"No!" Ryua said, vehemently. "We can't do anything that will get any of us expelled or kicked off the team, or even in detention. It gets in the way of quidditch practice."

"You're no fun," Draco grumbled, spreading strawberry jam on a croissant.

"So, are you hinting that you'd like us to practice this afternoon?" Ashley said, grumpily watching Cassie pour maple syrup over the plate of pancakes, sausages, French toast, fruit salad, and scrambled eggs she'd given her. Cassie, who never seemed to stop eating, spent much of her time trying to convince people to eat a 'decent meal'.

"No, because Gryffindor's beat us to it. I checked."

"So… let's go bug them!" Cassie said, now filling up Pucey's plate.

Draco grinned. "Maybe you aren't so bad after all, Darkwind,"

"Thanks," she said dryly, flicking a piece of orange peel at him.

"Okay. Just, get some homework done first, alright? If your marks drop too much, the school kicks you off the team." Ryua said, feeding Parsyl a piece of bacon.

She suited action to words later on, working in a hallway on the south facing side of the courtyard to catch the sun. There were chairs and little tables set out for that exact reason, and Ryua relished the warm, bright light washing over her.

She'd polished off about half her homework when she realized she'd have to stop and change the bandage on her hand. It was doing better now, although she probably shouldn't be writing with it. _Ah, well, it's about time to stop for lunch anyway._ Ryua doubted that any of her team sitting so nicely in a group had done much homework, but oh well. "Ready to go intimidate the Gryffindors?"

"Better believe it," said Draco with an evil grin.

"Just remember, you can't touch them, their brooms, or anything else. We'd get in too much trouble over that."

"Alright, alright…"

Of course, Pansy's little group had to tag along. Which meant this was turning into a much more elaborate expedition than Ryua had expected. They couldn't just go to bug Ron, or jeer at Harry, or something like that, no… they had to involve the whole house. Which also meant that she only had control over six of them. Lovely.

To make up for it, every time one of her team said something she thought was out of line, she kicked, smacked, or otherwise prodded them into silence. Especially Draco, he seemed determined to ride Ron about his broom. "What's that Weasley's riding? Why would anyone put a flying charm on a mouldy old log like that?" he called across the pitch. His yelp of pain as Ryua's foot hit him in the back of the head was muffled by laughter, but she felt better at least trying to subdue her team.

She wished Ron would at least try not to make such a fool of himself though. After Katie Bell's nose started gushing blood at an impressive rate because of Ron's overenthusiastic pass, Pansy started up a cheer. When Ryua turned to smack her too, she just smirked and said, "Ah ah ah! No touching a prefect, Ryua. You don't have any authority over me!"

Glowering, Ryua sunk down in her seat, and contented herself with imagining curse effects. Not that she had to wait much longer, as Bell fainted before long, signaling the end of the practice session. As soon as she saw the last of the Gryffindors touch down, she stood up and yelled, "Alright then! If you think you can do so much better, let's see you on those brooms! NOW!"

Cassie, Draco, and Pucey jumped, and the other three started moving just about as fast. "Now, Pansy," Ryua said sweetly as her team descended to their change rooms. "I'm afraid you'll be too much of a distraction to my team, if you stay here with your little entourage. So, if you'll please leave?"

"You can't order me around!" the heavier girl growled, pulling herself up to her full height, two inches taller than Ryua.

Ryua wasn't the least bit impressed. She'd seen way, way worse than Pansy. "No, but I have full authority over my team, and their training. This includes making sure we have the pitch to ourselves during training sessions if I think it necessary."

Pansy just glowered. She opened her mouth to say something, but didn't get farther than, "You…"

"If you have any objections, I'm sure you could bring it up with someone like Professor Snape. Only the teachers can change quidditch rules." Ryua skipped down the stairs, leaving a fuming Pansy plotting revenge on the stairs.

Author's note: Someone said earlier that I wrote my chapter too short. This is because I've had trouble with a few chapters who wouldn' tbe the two or three they were supposed ot split into. It just depends which chapter I'm writing, and how sleepy I am...


	18. Dumbledore's Army

Someday, I will own something of great value. This will not be Harry Potter, as J K Rowling already owns it.

Dumbledore's Army

When Harry came back to the Gryffindor common room later that week, he found Ron and Hermionie waiting up for him with an incredibly soothing bowl of murtlap (A/N: my computer says it isn't a word) essence. At first, he was just too grateful to wonder why, but then they sprang the news on him.

"Me? I can't teach, you've got to be joking."

"No, man, we're serious!" Ron said, leaning on the table.

"We'll just invite a few people, our best friends, don't worry." Hermione said, absently knitting a hat.

"But… no, I'm no teacher! I've just been really lucky. You guys have been there in the middle of it with me, I've always had help…"

"Not really, you did the entire Triwizard…" Ron got cut off then, by Harry exploding in a rant about how he really didn't do anything. The bowl of murtlap went flying, and both his friends ducked a bit.

Hermione saw her chance when he paused to take a breath. "You see, Harry… this is exactly what we need. If we're really going to have to face V-Voldemort…"

Harry did stop ranting at that. Just the fact that Hermionie dared say the name meant that she was really, really serious. And maybe, more than a little worried. "…I'll think about it, okay?" he said after a while.

"Great. That's excellent, Harry!" Hermionie said, beaming. She finished the bobbles on the elf hat, and went off to bed. Ron left just after too, leaving Harry with a throbbing hand, wishing he hadn't thrown a tantrum and smashed the bowl.

Just before the first Hogsmeade weekend, Harry agreed to try teaching the group. "So, how many people are you two inviting?"

"Oh, just a few." Hermione's answer came maybe a little quick, but luckily Harry didn't notice. He reached across Ron to snag a biscuit, and happened to catch a glance of the Slytherin table. Ryua had just smacked Goyle on the back of the head for trying to strangle some first year or other.

"What about her?" Harry asked, grabbing the strawberry jam on the way back to his seat.

"Who?" Ron asked, shoving Harry off his lap.

"Ryua. She's our friend, right?"

Hermionie glanced over at Ryua, now serenely eating chicken noodle soup. "Well, yes, of course, but she's a Slytherin."

"Yeah. But, she's not exactly mainstream, is she? I mean, she's not a prefect,"

"Neither are you, and you're as Gryffindor as it gets." Ron said, stealing Harry's jam and dodging a fork stab on the way.

"Fine then, how about this? She hates Umbridge as much as I do. And visa-versa." At the thought of his least favorite teacher, Harry's crackers crumbled into dust into his soup. "She's still using her left hand, in fact," he finished quietly.

"Okay, it's your class anyway. Ask her in Potions then, we've got that next."

Ryua _was_ still favoring her right hand. Part of it was habit, of course, but it still twinged. And for the fact that Pansy had tattled on her for being a bit rude on the quidditch pitch, Umbridge had given her another three days detention. Which of course only made her more determined to get back at the nasty, horrendous excuse for a woman in any way possible.

So, when Harry whispered his plan on the way out from Potions, Ryua was all too happy to agree. "That's absolutely brilliant! That's exactly what we need. I can curse just about anything out of existence, but I was hoping for someone who could teach me the rest. When do we start?"

"Ah… at the Hogshead, this Hogsmeade weekend. Oh, and I don't mean to sound rude, or prejudiced…"

"But don't tell anyone?" Ryua finished, hiding a smile. "Yeah, as if. I'm not exactly thrilled with my house right about now. Why would I give up a chance to actually be around decent people? Well, Potter," Ryua said in a louder voice, "Hopefully you'll actually pass this assignment for a change. I'm getting bored of tutoring you."

"Well, Malfoy, you'd better have told me something right this time, or else I'll be seeing you again and again…"

"Oh, don't make me gag," Ryua sneered as she turned down to the common room. It wasn't until she was alone in the washrooms that she allowed herself an altogether happy grin. _Finally, a way to get back at Umbridge, and decent company to boot. Not to mention actually learning something…_

Hogsmeade weekend seemed to take forever to arrive, but eleven quidditch practices, 38 meals, and 12 mornings later, she woke up and immediately pulled out her out-of-school clothes on. A soft, fitted lavender top, which she of course hid under a long green cardigan, and an extremely comfortable pair of black suede pants. Black, knee-length dragon hide boots and a matching shoulder bag for Parsyl and money completed the outfit, and she was up eating breakfast within 15 minutes.

She fairly bounced onto the carriages to Hogsmeade, causing Draco to look at her a little oddly. "Ryua, what's gotten into you? Have you been practicing cheering charms or something?"

"Don't be silly, you know I can't cast the bloody things," Ryua said, trying to force herself to calm down. "I'm just glad to be getting away from that revolting, pudgy, slimy, fashion-challenged, pathetic…"

"Umbridge?"

"Yeah. It."

She managed to get Draco enthralled at Zonko's, and slipped out while he was elbow deep in a bin full of something vaguely alive and twitching. Ryua figured that he wouldn't have the guts to go to the Hogshead without her along, he'd just go make fun of some poor first years at the Three Broomsticks. She came in to see a nervous looking Harry, flanked by Ron and Hermione, who appeared to be there just to keep him from running away. Fred and George Weasley weren't far behind, and she noticed that they looked rather happy to have a semi-legitimate excuse to be in such a dodgy place. "D'you reckon they'd have Blastapod sap here?" Fred asked.

"Hope so, otherwise we'll have to get to Knockturn Alley somehow, and that means summer break, or Christmas at the soonest…" George replied with a sigh. Ryua had no trouble telling them apart, although she couldn't tell you how. She figured it had to be a twin thing.

"Of course they do," she said, sliding onto a stool beside them. "It's one of the main ingredients in the 'Extra Hextra Sizzlers'."

Both twins looked at her with wide, calculating eyes. "And you would know…"

"How? And could you get some for us?"

"Well, it's not precisely legal, as I'm sure you've found out. Most of the drinks here are actually not-exactly-curriculum potions. The kind you can use to enslave someone's will, or burn them up from the inside out, that sort of thing."

Fred's eyes glinted, and George got a slightly maniacal grin. "Excellent. Maybe we'll have to get our hands on some… samples."

"Stick with your Blastapod slime first, show that you won't get caught and rat them out. Just flash a little gold to get some attention…" Parsyl handed up a galleon to Ryua's hand as she spoke, "And you'll get someone who can help you."

George caught the coin as she flipped it over, and looked meaningfully at the server behind the counter. Within seconds, there was a slightly disreputable character at his elbow. "And what can I get for you, young masters?"

"We've heard you might have a bit of a certain type of slime."

"Used for blowing things up."

"We thought we could take a bit of the excess off your hands."

"And give you a bit of compensation, of course."

The wizard, Dryden, Ryua recalled, got a bit of a slimy grin on his face. "Well, I'm not entirely sure if I remember whether we have any or not…"

"Oh, stuff it, Dryden." Ryua said, polishing her wand and not even bothering to look at the man in question. "You know exactly what they're asking for, and you know very well where it is. And, I wouldn't advise cheating them on this. If they don't catch you, I certainly will."

He gulped, and shuffled in back to bring out a well-padded vial of the stuff. "Thanks," Fred said, raising a bottle of Butterbeer in a toast after he handed over a fair amount of coins.

"Yeah," George continued. "If you ever need any prank products, potions, or just plain backup threats, we're your guys."

"I'll keep it in mind. Zonko's not quite violent enough for my tastes…" Ryua replied. "We'd better get over to the meeting, though, even the three of us look suspicious in a place like this."

Ryua hung back in the crowd, trying not to get noticed while Hermione explained the idea. Still, one of the Hufflepuffs pointed a finger at her the moment agreeing not to tell came up. "What about her? She's a Slytherin."

"And you're a Hufflepuff. Brilliant of you to notice. I suppose that means you've learned your primary colors then?" Ryua retorted, leaning on a table.

The boy blushed a deep red, but kept on going, not talking directly to Ryua. "You can't be serious. I'm not going to practice with a Slytherin! She'll either kill us or rat us out."

For the first time, Harry spoke up, quietly. "I don't think she will myself, Smith. If you don't want to stay, you don't have to."

"Yes, we all actually want to learn, because… Lord Voldemort is back." Hermionie said, bringing a chorus of gasps, shrieks, and assorted similar responses. Ryua crushed a shudder. _It's not as if he's right here in the Hogshead. He'd be jumping all over Harry if he _was_ anywhere near enough to do any harm._ Still, she'd been brought up to fear and respect that name…

She shook herself out of musings to notice that Harry was trying to say he hadn't done anything, and everyone was coming up with lists of things he had done. "I don't know what you were paying attention to last year, Potter, but I happened to be watching the Triwizard. Acromantula, dragons… getting through that lake challenge… that might be just a little show of your strength."

Harry was fighting a loosing battle, saying that he couldn't teach, and it soon rolled around to times. "We need to make sure this doesn't clash with our Quidditch practice…"

"No, nor with ours,"

"Nor ours,"

"And I'll make you wish you were never born if you try to schedule over mine." Odd, how every Quidditch captain happened to be in the group…

Luckily, Hermione and Ernie Macmillan salvaged the situation, by pulling it onto a righteous speech about needing protection during this critical time. And when Hermione finally pulled out a list, Ryua was just after Fred and George writing her name down. She cheerfully waved on her way out the door, noting with disdain how Chang was hanging around. _How obviously desperate can you get…_

Draco found her looking in a bookstore window a few minutes later. "Where have you been all this time?"

"I got bored watching you play with bugs and went for a drink." Which was the truth, or close enough that Draco shouldn't pick up the lie.

Author's Note: Sorry it took so long. First I couldn't get the chapter written, then I couldn't get to the library, then my disk decided to unformat last week, and this is the first day I've gotten to the library since.

I have a bit of a rant. I don't normally do it, but I just feel like it. Last chapter, I only got two reviews, and I was a little sad. Any reviews are good, but still...  
So when I saw someone else had reviewed, I was happy.Only to findout it was a very nasty flame. I've left it on my review page, because it only seems fair to give everyone their free speech, but it hurt.  
I know I've been following the books, and not using my own ideas the whole time. But, this is my first fic. I've been starting up slow. Maybe it's not the best written in the world, but I've been having real difficulties gettting anyone to beta my work, and I think I've gotten better now.  
And even though I've just learned that if I can stretch it out till July, I'll have the sixth book, I'm going to start my own storyline at the end of this book anyway. Avalon 64 knows this, if anyone has any doubts.  
So, I have a little Christmas request. It seems like such a waste of time to trash someone's work. If you have some suggestions, or actual, specific things you'd like me to change, by all means, tell me. I've been thinking how to word this little speech for a few days, since I got the flame. And I decided that it would be best to go back to a very early message most kids get, then forget:

"If you can't say somethin' nice, don't say nuthin' at all."  
-Thumper


	19. DA Meetings

Someday, I will own something of great value. This will not be Harry Potter, as J K Rowling already owns it.

DA Meetings

"So, what were you really doing at the Hogshead?" Draco asked. He and Ryua shared the carriage with Crabbe and Goyle, which meant they could talk easier than if they were alone at Hogwarts or home. No one eavesdropped on a Malfoy when their henchmen were nearby.

"What do you mean?" Ryua said, neutrally.

"I know you weren't just getting a drink, you'd have taken me with you."

Ryua groaned, turning it swiftly into an expression of disgust. "Why is it that you think I include you in everything I do?"

"Um, let's see… because you do?"

"I joined a group to study DADA better than Umbridge could teach it. I figured you wouldn't want the extra work, when you already have Quidditch and Prefect duties."

"Oh." Draco was satisfied with that, although maybe a little hurt deep down. They really did do everything together, and this was the first time Ryua had gone off doing something without him.

The next morning, though, there was a notice on the board which killed off most of Ryua's enthusiasm, to be replaced with hate and frenzied activity. _Educational Decree Number Twenty Four_ the sign read. Ryua couldn't do anything about Harry's group, that was up to him, but she had to get the Quidditch team reinstated. She strode into the boy's dorm, throwing a shoe at her brother. She mildly noticed that the empty bed in the corner had been requisitioned for storage of their extra stuff. "Wake up Draco, we have trouble."

"Uh. G'way…" he said, pulling the blankets over his head.

"Up!" Ryua bellowed, using her best Quidditch pitch yell. "I need to get Umbridge to do something, and she won't listen to me alone. So you're coming with me!"

The pile of green blankets winced at her tone. "So bribe her. I'm not getting up, it's Sunday."

"You are more trouble than you're worth, you know that?" Ryua said as she strode out. _Actually, that's not a bad idea…_

Before breakfast even, Ryua was knocking at Umbridge's office door. "Good morning, Professor."

"Oh… good morning dear…" she said, apparently not fully awake yet despite the steaming mug of coffee in her fat little fist.

"I just was noticing the Educational Decree posted in the house common rooms, and came here straightaway to get our house team reinstated."

"The Slytherin team, yes, yes… wait. You're the captain?"

"Yes Professor Umbridge. It would mean a great deal to me to be able to continue. I would be… grateful." Ryua said, hiding her disgust, and rolling a galleon across her fingertips.

Exactly as Draco had predicted, her greedy, pudgy little eyes lit up at the sight of the gold, and when Ryua pulled the small bag from her robes, Umbridge immediately signed a paper to be delivered to Dumbledore allowing the Slytherin team to practice. "Some people…" Ryua muttered as she walked up to Dumbledore's office. "Well, at least the team's back, that's what matters." She set the parchment in the gargoyle's mouth and went back down to breakfast.

Predictably, Draco acted like getting the team back was his whole idea. Ryua didn't' mind, it kept him happy, and the people that mattered, namely the Quidditch teams, knew very well that it was her doing. Something interesting happened though, during Draco's usual slandering of the Gryffindors. Although Harry and Ron looked as angry as usual, Neville Longbottom was the one who flew to his feet and leapt at them. Goyle immediately placed himself in front of Draco of course, being the taller and more forbidding, and Crabbe moved in front of Ryua, just in case Neville stupidly decided she was an easier target than Draco.

"Huh. What do you suppose Longbottom has against St. Mungoes?" Draco asked, back in the common room

"Hmm, probably someone he knows in long-term care." Ryua said, copying Charms answers out of the textbook. "The Longbottoms were always involved in the war, probably some cousin or something."

"Maybe he has a long lost brother, that they keep hidden away from the world because they're ashamed to have him in the family!"

"… Draco, you've been reading too many comic books. Neville's an only child, and even if he had a brother, he wouldn't come back, twisted and evil to be the downfall of his family."

"Fine, shatter my beliefs…"

A couple days later in Arithmancy, Hermione told Ryua that they'd found a place for the meetings. "Really? Good, I was hoping for a reason not to fly Quidditch practice tonight…"

"Yeah, that was the guys' reaction too."

"I was worried you wouldn't still do it with Umbridge's decrees. I'll see you there."

And just before eight, Ryua managed to catch up with Fred and George, both of whom looked just as excited as she was. With one look around the room, Ryua fell in love. Books, cushions, dark detectors, and the feeling of doing something completely forbidden came together to make a fantastic atmosphere.

She was a bit shocked to hear that Harry wanted to start with disarming charms, but that was before she saw how sad most of the students were with just that. Expelliarmus was one of the few charms she could work well, because it was so obviously a dueling spell. So, after catching both Harry and Neville's wands within seconds of each other, Harry left her with Neville and walked around the classroom. Neville, for reasons Ryua couldn't grasp, seemed to be scared of the simple little charm. "Relax, Neville, I'm not going to kill you. The worst you can do with this charm is throw someone a few feet, and that takes a lot of magic."

"I did it earlier, I got Harry's wand. Now, I can't do it anymore…" he said sadly, as Ryua's wand hand shivered, but held tight.

"Well, what were you doing different?"

"Nothing!" he wailed, pointing his wand again, and causing a slight push of wind against her body.

"Neville, You're acting like you don't expect it to work. You jab your wand lightly, you say the words quietly, and you don't sound like you expect my wand to obey."

"That's cause you're better than me. I can't order you around." He looked absolutely miserable, "Everyone's better than me…"

"Longbottom, quit thinking that way. This spell doesn't care who's the better duelist, who has the most magic… it cares about how much you want to, need to disarm your opponent." Ryua took a deep breath. "I've used it against much more experienced and stronger wizards, and it works, simply because I really, really wanted it to."

"Really?" He looked up at her, his soft, round face full of hope.

"Yes. Now, start using some of that pureblood magic, and demand that I let go of my wand. The more aristocratic and demanding you sound, the more likely you'll do it right."

"Okay… Expelliarmus!" He shouted, snapping his wand down. Ryua ducked as six books flew off the shelf behind her. "Oops, sorry, sorry…"

"It's okay. That was a good charm. Now, just try to aim it better." Two more batches of books went flying, narrowly missing Michael and Ginny, before he made a hit at her wand. It clattered at his feet. "Beautiful, Neville, beautiful. There's just one problem."

"What?" He asked, nervous again.

"It's much easier to pick up a wand, then try to wrench it out of your opponent's hand. Catch it, don't leave it lying around where anyone can get it." Ryua caught her wand as Neville tossed it back. "Neville, are you left-handed?"

"Erm, no…"

"Neville, you just threw me my wand with your left, and in Potions, you use your left when you cut things. So, why don't you use your left all the time?"

"I've always been told it's bad to use your left…"

Ryua snorted. "Some stupid pureblood rule, like not speaking to muggle-borns. I'll tell you now, Neville, when you're in a life or death situation, it's much, much better to use your good hand. It could mean the difference between disarming your opponent, or being killed."

He looked slightly sheepish, but not altogether woebegone, a good sign. "Okay, I'll try."

"Good. I know how much harder it is to be stuck with your off hand."

"Detention was that bad?"

"… sort of. I also broke my right over the summer, and had to learn everything with my left. Not fun at all. So, don't do it if you don't have to, okay?"

With that, Harry called an end to the meeting, sending them all scurrying back to their dorms before they were caught by Filch for being out.

Author's Note: Wow, I got another three reviews last chapter. Thanks to JeannieBeannie33, Rain4lifeand KarrotMonster (go Me!)for making me feel better, andKarrotMonster for giving me an idea for a chapter later, too!

And I've been trying really, really hard to get a fanart account going. won't accept my format, I can't log into Elfwood until January, and I can't find anymore sites for some reason. Any suggestions?


	20. Quidditch

Someday, I will own something of great value. This will not be Harry Potter, as J K Rowling already owns it.

Quidditch

Between organizing the Slytherin Quidditch team, doing her regular homework, and the DA meetings, Ryua didn't have time for anything else. In fact, even the Quidditch team was slipping, with the occasional jinx getting fired at one Gryffindor player or other. She always berated those she caught, of course, and had actually scorched the hems of Ashley's robes for a particularly nasty curse done to a chaser. That ensured the others didn't do anything for three whole days, as they knew that she had just lost her control for a moment. None of them wanted to see Ryua in a full fury.

In fact, the people at the DA meetings had started jockeying to get out of being her partner those days when she came in glowering. This meant that she was with either Harry or Neville, who oddly enough had decided he wasn't scared of her anymore. _Must have been the whole sympathy thing… just what I wanted to build my reputation on._

Actually, it made a nice change from the whole Slytherin House edging away from her. Sometimes that was nice, most of the time it was depressing.

On the fourth meeting, Neville was just pulling Ryua off the floor, babbling apologies while she tried to tell him that that was the whole point of the spell, when Hermione called them all towards the center. Although Harry was the acknowledged 'teacher', Hermione was in control of all the organizing. When she announced she'd put a Protean charm on the Galleons she was handing out, Ryua was as shocked quiet as the rest. Not only did she know that a Protean charm was NEWT level, well beyond anything she'd ever manage, but she'd only known one other instance of a Protean charm.

Sure enough, Harry picked up on it too. "You know what these remind me of?"

"No, what?" Hermione asked.

"The Death Eaters' scars. Voldemort touches one of them, and all their scars burn, and they know they've got to join him."

"Well… yes, but you'll notice I decided to engrave the date on bits of metal rather than on our members' skin…"

"Very good choice, Hermione. I've always thought that was an utterly disgusting way of doing it." Ryua said as she picked up the last Galleon. "Looks so painful too… especially now."

"Yeah, he seems to like inflicting pain for no particular reason…" Harry said, rubbing his scar.

"Gives you headaches?" Ryua asked in surprise.

"Yes, well, not as much as Umbridge will do to us if she catches us out of dorms this late. Go on, it's clear down to the dungeons now."

"Okay, thanks…" Ryua pulled on her lethifold, a new addition after Mrs. Norris had caught her on the way back six nights ago and she'd only escaped by stunning the cat and running before the spell wore off. She'd been lucky, spells tended to slide off Mrs. Norris with little or no effect, and she wasn't about to risk it again.

The day before the first Quidditch match, Ryua was a bit tense. It had been two weeks since the last DA meeting, since both teams had been practicing non-stop, and Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw had the pitch the few days it was open. Therefore, she hadn't cursed anything in a while. The team had been surprisingly good, and she'd only hexed Pucey once, weeks back. They had been so good, in fact, that Ryua had started stalking her players, to see what they were plotting.

Nothing was turned up. Well, unless you counted Cassie being caught with a Hufflepuff prefect under the stairs after hours, or Crabbe and Goyle raiding the kitchen for the fourth time in two days. She'd given it all up to nerves, in fact, and had just decided to pulverize some dung beetles for Snape's stores to release some tension. When Ryua got back, it was just after nine, but she ordered the team to bed anyway within half an hour. She waited for all six murmurs of assent, plus Josh's immediate departure before going off to bed herself. The kid had as much enthusiasm as three of her other players, and was very, very stubbornly into every bit of training and team business.

Ten minutes after she was gone, Draco pulled out a box of badges from his bag. "Here."

"Ooh, you got them?" Pansy asked, immediately abandoning her homework.

"Of course. I'm not about to pass up something this good." He said, passing them around the house. "Weasley's about the easiest mark that's ever come into this school."

"You sure about this, Draco?" Cassie asked, eyeing the badge he'd just tossed at her. "I mean, isn't this a little low?"

"Of course not. If Weasley can't handle a little prodding, then he doesn't belong on the team."

"If that's the case, than why don't you give one to Ryua?" Ashley said, arms crossed and ignoring the badge Pansy was trying to give her.

"Aw, c'mon Snape," Draco said, "You know her. She's too upright about stuff. Honestly, she's a near Hufflepuff when it comes to fair play."

"I still think it's a bad idea."

"Well, then, here's this. If you don't wear one, I'll give you detention over the match." Pansy said gleefully.

"You wouldn't." Ashley's eyes narrowed.

"Yeah, she would, and I'd back her up!" said Draco, having sent the last of the badges into the younger dorms.

For a moment, it looked like Josh would get to play a match after all. Ashley glared, and looked like she'd like to snarl, but took the badge and stuck it in her pocket, going off to the dorms without a backwards glance. Cassie followed suit, and the rest of the team realized that Ryua would quite possibly come out and send them all to bed if they weren't there within the next five minutes.

So Ryua didn't know any of this occurrence until the rest of her house got up the next morning. And even then, she was paying more attention to Ron all the way across the Hall. She'd never seen anyone look so happily dazed before, and all from one little peck on the cheek. Until she saw Harry look rather horrified at something the Slytherin house seemed to be wearing. Ryua snapped around to see little crown-shaped badges everywhere, printed with _Weasley is our King_ boldly across them.

_Well, it's a bit low, nothing I would have done, but Ron's not even going to notice them at this rate, and I think he's stronger than what a few badges could undo…_ Of course, he did look rather green when Draco practically shoved it in his face, and was a bit pale on the pitch, but that could have been nerves by that point. He'd pick up once he was in the air, Quidditch players always did…

"Captains, shake hands," came Madam Hooch's familiar order. Ryua nodded slightly as she shook Angelina Johnson's hand. She'd never seen any real point in trying to break someone's hand. Not only was it a really pointless display of useless strength, but also if she'd actually succeeded, she'd have been kicked off the team for the game at least.

Up in the air, all her worries evaporated. Ron may be her friend, but Ryua had a match to win. Everything was so clear in a quidditch match. There was black and white, good and bad, winning and losing, no middle grades, no maybes, no exceptions… just your team and the other team, seven on seven, an even match.

At least, until Ryua heard the crowd below her start up a song. _Weasley cannot save a thing, he cannot block a single ring…_ She whipped around, and her eyes fixed immediately on Pansy's familiar figure directing the song. Furiously, Ryua flipped over and clubbed the incoming quaffle across the pitch with her clenched fists.

**_How dare they!_ **_Do they think we can't win honestly? Do they have that little faith in us? As if Ron needed any help being nervous anyway! He was shaking before they started it up, and now he's barely on his broom! Longbottom would have better luck!_

Ryua glared about the pitch, noticing how her team stayed outside of bellowing range. Far enough out, in fact, that the three Gryffindor chasers had an un-contested opening to her three hoops and slipped in the quaffle. Only Pucey dared come close enough to catch her pass, and he was gone before she could say a thing. Two more goals later, and Ryua was just aching for the game to end. Anyone could see how it would turn out. They could easily get 16 goals past Ron, but not before Harry caught the snitch. Especially when his friend's dignity was on the line. Draco was too cocky, relied too much on Crabbe and Goyle to get really skilled on his own. When they went into a dive, Ryua didn't even bother to watch, but kept her eyes fixed instead on Pansy, plotting where she might go, how quickly, who she'd probably be with…

She looked up to see Ron trudging alone back to the Gryffindor changerooms, and the rest of his team celebrating, although more from relief than triumph. Crabbe was being yelled at, probably because he was the reason Harry was rubbing his back. Draco was saying something, probably trying to save face over missing the snitch again…

Too late, she saw Harry's hand on George's, the look on all their faces… Ryua dove down at the group, seeing Draco blanch and stumble back as Harry and George fell on him, Crabbe behind Madam Hooch and Goyle already in the changerooms because of a nasty bludger…

She pulled up as Hooch's jinx threw the Gryffindors off. Ryua paused just long enough to ascertain that most of Draco's whimpering was fluff to get them in trouble, and took off, eyes glinting as she caught sight of Pansy walking back to the castle. Draco was suffering enough pain for now, it was time to give Pansy a bit.

"Parkinson!" Ryua called across the grounds. Pansy's group of giggly girls evaporated, leaving the older girl wide open. Ryua shot in on her broom, whipping around and hovering at eye level with her. "I thought I told you to leave the Quidditch pitch to me, Parkinson."

"Oh, Ryua, do come off it. We just thought you'd like a little help…"

"Help?" Ryua's voice was echoing some rather furious undertones. If it had been Draco she was talking to, he would have run head over heels. Pansy, however, hadn't seen Ryua mad before.

"Of course. Since you don't seem to be Slytherin enough to do what you need to to win…" She was cut off by Ryua's gesture. A gesture which meant that she was suddenly picked up by an invisible hand, and squeezed until breathing was rather uncomfortable.

Ryua had barely started. Lazily, she sat back on her broom, free hand reaching slowly inside her robes. "You know, Pansy, I meant it. The Quidditch team is mine, and I don't like people messing with my things. I don't want you to ever meddle in Quidditch affairs again," she said, as she started to pull out her wand. "So, if you ever, ever do anything like that again…"

"Expelliarmus!" came a quick voice from across the field. Ryua hissed with annoyance and shook her hand, which was stinging from the spell. She whirled, to see Professor Snape fielding her wand, and breaking her hold on Pansy with his own. "To my office, Miss Parkinson, I will meet you there momentarily." Ryua heard Pansy hit the ground and run off, panting and holding back tears.

"Sir!"

"Ryua, that was the most irresponsible, stupid thing you've done to date. Potter and the Weasley twins are likely to be thrown off the team for starting a provoked brawl on the pitch with another player. And you think that this won't get you worse?"

"She deserved it…"

"In your mind, perhaps, and maybe even in others. But Umbridge hates you, and will take any excuse to make your life miserable. And here you are, attacking a fellow student, while mounted, without any provocation at all. Do you have any idea how this is going to look?"

"It's not like I got to do anything, _sir_. You saw to that."

Snape's lips thinned, and he gestured at her broom. It dumped her off, and she barely managed to keep her feet as he caught it. He turned and walked away, and it was clear he expected to be followed. Snape was one of the few people in the world she'd obey and order like that from, and she stalked after him.

Once she'd caught up, he said, "If you had actually managed to pull your wand, there is little I or Dumbledore would be able to do to keep you in this school."

"So?" Ryua asked, fully aware she was acting like a sullen child.

"So, you would go home, expelled, in disgrace of the wizarding world. Your father would not be amused."

"I can deal with him."

"So you think. And maybe you can. But one wizard would be very amused. Ryua," he said, stopping in a shadowed part of the courtyard to look at her, "_He_ is out there. And he has his eye on you and Draco enough as it is. If you leave this school in disgrace, what do you honestly think will happen to you?"

Ryua bit her lip, not quite meeting his gaze, unable to speak.

"He will take you, Ryua. And there is no escape once you're his. Not truly. Not until death. Please understand that there is more to this than honor, than pride. You can stand a little ego bruising if it keeps you alive. Now," he said, walking back out into the courtyard, secretly eager to get out of the November wind, "I will do what I can to keep you in this school, and your captaincy. I'm afraid you're in for a rough few weeks until Umbridge works out her anger, however."

"Yes, sir." Ryua said, wishing now that she had a little more self-control.


	21. Dementors and Thestrals

Someday, I will own something of great value. This will not be Harry Potter, as J K Rowling already owns it.

Detention and Thestrals 

The next morning, Ryua was called to Snape's office directly after breakfast. To her immense relief, he was alone, no ministry wizards, dementors, Dumbledore, or Umbridge. Hopefully, that meant she wasn't in too much trouble. She'd slept very well, mostly because Pansy was absolutely terrified all night long and hadn't made a sound, and she didn't want to wreck the good mood.

"Ryua, please sit down," Snape said, indicating his other chair. She did, and looked up at him. "The good news is, you're still in Hogwarts, and I think it is still possible to retain your captaincy as well. You may have to empty a bit more of your family's vaults, for that."

"Ugh. Fine, I don't care, as long as I keep the team. So… if you gave me good news…"

He sighed. "The bad news is that Umbridge has given you detention from now until Christmas."

Ryua was quiet for a moment, calculating in her mind. "…Sir… I don't think I can physically do her detentions for a month and a half… I might lose my hand." She was entirely serious; that much cutting would wear the bone down to the point it wouldn't support even regular muscle tension, let alone Quidditch.

"I know that, and so does she. You will end up with scars on your other hand as well… to give the first time to heal."

"Wonderful…"

"It _is_ entirely your fault, Ryua. If I hadn't convinced Miss Parkinson to say, truthfully of course, that you hadn't actually pulled your wand, you would have a much different scar by Christmas. You will report to her every day, excluding Fridays and Saturdays, from after dinner until eleven."

"Yes sir." Ryua said, more humbly than she'd spoken to most in her life.

"For what it's worth, I am sorry." He said as he opened the door. She left, without saying anything else.

Her silence ended when she got back to her dorm room and discovered Pansy pulling out her lethifold, the other contents of her trunk spread over her bed. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?"

"Oh, Professor Umbridge told me to make sure you didn't have anything useable for sneaking around, or illegal possessions."

Ryua became extremely glad she'd given most of her potions ingredients to Snape for safekeeping. "So you're going through my stuff?"

"Of course. Draco would be the better choice, since he knows what you have, but he's not allowed in here. So, the chore fell on my poor, overworked shoulders."

_The worst thing, _Ryua thought, _is that I can't do a thing about it. Not if I want to stay in Hogwarts, that is._ Suppressing a rather animalistic growl, Ryua grabbed her snake, which had crawled down off of her shoulders to try and bite Pansy, and left. She did berate the team, up and down. Cassie, Ashley, and Pucey looked properly shamefaced, and Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle at least looked terrified. She spent the rest of the all-too short day doing homework, and working as far ahead as possible, until dinner rolled around.

She went up early, Parsyl left back in the common room. Ryua knew the cobra would bite Umbridge if given such a ripe opportunity as detention. Wandering the corridors, she saw a rather dejected Fred and George walking. Not strutting, sneaking, or with pockets full of barely-legal merchandise, just walking. "What happened to you two?"

"You ought to have an easy job of winning the cup, Malfoy."

"Me, Fred, 'n'Harry all got kicked off the team."

"For good."

"A lifelong ban."

"And she even took our brooms!" Fred wailed.

Ryua was aghast. "That little, insignificant, irritating-as-hell, puffed-pastry lumpy bitch. I'm so sorry. Although, I'm barely on the team myself."

"What?"

"Why? What did you do?"

"I had a go at torturing Pansy Parkinson for that stupid song. Snape caught me before I got very far, which is why I'm still here, but I've got detention till Christmas, and I'll have to bribe her for the captaincy."

"Ouch. She use that quill on you too?"

"Harry's hand always looked nasty."

"Just a minute…" they both said.

"Why'd you care about the song?"

"It did a brilliant job of demoralizing us…"

Ryua sighed. "Because, I can't stand that sort of thing. I've got no compulsions about playing dirty, or hard, or even forthright cheating if it's absolutely necessary. I don't have any reservations about injuring, torturing, or even killing people. But, striking out like that, it smacks of childish squabbling, of two-year-olds saying 'my dad's better than your dad'. It's degrading, it takes no talent or thought… and besides. It's my team. Mine, not hers. And I want to win the cup my way. It takes away from the whole thing to let her do all the work."

The twins were silent for a minute. "Man. Slytherins with honor."

"What next?"

She smiled a bit. "I meant what I said, about torturing people…"

Fred blanched. "Erm, right… maybe we'll just go to dinner now…"

"Excellent idea… Bye Ryua!" They all three went the same way to dinner, of course, but it was cute anyway.

Ryua did need to get two school owls, plus her own to bring enough gold from Gringotts. She didn't like it, it was too close in spirit to what Pansy had been doing, but she couldn't live without the Quidditch. Even with six weeks of detention ahead of her, she wouldn't trade Harry, Fred and George for anything. Of course, she made sure to take the gold from the family coffers, not her own personal vault. _As long as he keeps me in the family, I might as well use it to the best of my advantage._

Her hand had healed well from the last bouts of detention, and it wasn't even bleeding by night's end. She knew it wouldn't keep up for long, though.

And then, Monday, there was Care of Magical Creatures. Hagrid was back, although Ryua was appalled at the amount of bruising on what was visible of his face. She was completely used to him carrying around dead animals, although the cow was a bit much, but she'd never seen him this badly injured. From the way he moved, there was more underneath, maybe a few cracked ribs to boot. And here he was, leading them into the forest, as if he were at full strength. Insane.

Once they were quite deep enough to make any normal person nervous, Hagrid dumped the cow, and shrieked. Not scared, but like a huge, hungry hawk or something. Not long after, the first Thestral came through the trees. Ryua knew Hagrid was searching the crowd for people who were watching them, but she didn't bother trying to hide her ability. _Interesting… Hagrid's seen death too. And Harry, Millicent, and… Neville? When's he been around death?_

Hagrid was saying the same list of people, but of course, Draco had to interrupt before he could explain, "Excuse me, but what exactly are we supposed to be seeing?"

"Thestrals, you idiot. Now shut up." Ryua said, petting one who was sniffing at her robes. He did shut up, when he saw the cow being eaten invisibly away, and Ryua's fingers sliding over something obviously there. The class actually looked to be sort of good, when from behind everyone…

_Hem, hem, _came the all-too familiar voice. Umbridge proceeded to humiliate Hagrid with all the skill of the worst Slytherins, asking stupid questions, acting out basic words, questioning the students…

Pansy was all too happy to help out, of course. Poor Neville was obviously trying to defend Hagrid, but was just as obviously terrified of the Thestrals. Umbridge completely ignored Ryua, which on reflection was probably a good thing. _There's no telling what I'd have said…_

Luckily, much of the class had been taken up by walking through the forest, and there would be time to walk back too, so the lesson was mercifully short. On the way out, Ryua was walking ahead of the others, writing a Transfiguration essay as she went, and she heard Draco come up behind the Trio. "Weasley, we were just wondering. D'you reckon if you saw someone snuff it, you'd be able to see the quaffle better?"

The laughter made her feel somewhat sick. _He really doesn't care. I'm worried he's going to get a nasty shock, and live all those things he teases others about. And I don't know if he'll be able to cope…_ "Don't worry about him, Ron. You're better than he could ever be. He's far too impatient at the rings, wants to be out, earning all the glory. You know…" she said, trailing off.

"What?" Ron asked, "Don't leave me hanging like that!"

"If you're up to the occasional midnight flight, I could give you a bit of training, keeper to keeper. That way, no one will see it's me coaching you, and I won't have the excuse to skip detention…"

"Really? You would?" Ron looked positively thrilled.

"Depends. If you would give me a hand with Charms, than definitely."

"… You want my help with Charms? Have you gone completely nuts?"

"No… I really can't do them. And if you help me, it'll look sort of like I did it, unlike if I asked Hermione."

Ron's face got an odd, pensive expression. "I'm not sure whether to be really happy… or insulted…"

"If given the choice, Ron, be happy." Harry said. "So, detention every day?"

"Except Friday and Saturday…"

"Ouch. I sympathize. I'll try to schedule around it at least…"

"Yeah. Thanks."

Meanwhile, Hermione gave a little pout. "I feel so left out. Between Quidditch, Thestrals, and detention, I have absolutely nothing to put into the conversation."

"Wow. That has to be a first for you, right?" Ryua chuckled when Hermione stuck her tongue out. So, that meant classes ended on a somewhat happy note.

Of course, the evening sucked, but she'd expected that. One tenderly written Herbology paper later, Ryua was in bed, trying to catch up sleep.

She kept her promise to teach Ron Quidditch, though. Just once a week, but enough to assure her that he was really an excellent keeper. "Ron, I think you've just got a block against performing for a crowd."

"Yeah, that's what Harry reckoned too." He said glumly, passing the quaffle (which Ron had charmed to glow slightly) back to Ryua.

"So… try to forget you're in front of a crowd. And ignore that ridiculous song Pansy thought up."

"I hate that song…"

"Me too. It's degrading. I mean, don't they think we can actually win? When your own house loses faith… I tried to curse her for it, did Fred and George tell you?"

"No," he said, fielding a shot without even blinking. "When was this?"

"Right after the match. I didn't even get off my broom, just shot after her. I had her dangling a foot above the ground too, before Snape interfered."

"I suppose it's good he did though, huh?"

"Yeah. Well, next time you hear the song, just imagine her being squeezed by an invisible hand until she pops. That should help."

"Or make me sick. I'm not that good with blood…"

_Detention-homework, detention-homework, detention-quidditch-homework, detention, detention-dictate-homework-to-Dobby, DA meeting, homework, homework, homework… Ugh, even on my nights off, I still can't seem to sleep. For the first time in my life, I think I'm actually looking _forward _to Christmas break…_


	22. December

Someday, I will own something of great value. This will not be Harry Potter, as J K Rowling already owns it.

December

The end of November and the first three weeks of December went exactly the same. Umbridge finished the rest of her inspections, Ryua started falling behind in homework again, Pansy strutted around like she owned the dorm, and Draco followed her like a stallion on an in-season mare. Ryua had started dictating some of her longer essays to Dobby again, and was trading chocolate bars for homework from Ashley and Cassie. Umbridge had moved on to her left hand on December tenth, when the white bone showing through Ryua's cuts was too obvious for even her to ignore. This was a blessing in more ways than one, because the quill automatically reset to the back of her hand, and she wrote much slower with her left. Of course, it didn't take long to catch up, but at least there was no underlying injury on this hand to interfere.

She did miss one DA meeting, simply because eighteen out of nineteen people having the available night was too good to pass up. The two she got to though, she made no bones about wrapping her bleeding hand in bandages. Neville was astounded to see her miss one shot, because she was off-handed and in pain. He immediately tried using his true good hand, and his accuracy went up at an astounding rate from then on in.

Quidditch called for bandages too, although those were hidden under mitts. The cold still bit down to the bone, but at least no one else was particularly comfortable either. The team was practicing as hard as ever at least, and hadn't pulled any stupid stunts since word spread of what she had done to Pansy. Somehow (cough, Umbridge, cough), word had leaked out that she'd killed Zabini too, and now everyone avoided her. Except Cassie, who was as cheerful as ever, and the rest of the team, who figured they were vital enough to her personal plans not to be killed off. Good enough. They were the only ones she cared about. And they proved why when they absolutely flattened Hufflepuff in their match.

Up in the Gryffindor tower, with the roaring fires, friendly games, and the occasional demonstration by Fred and George, things were a lot more cheerful. Ron told Harry and Hermione that Mrs. Weasley had invited them to stay over Christmas, Neville was doing incredibly well in DA, and Harry and Ron were even passing Potions, thanks to Ryua's tutoring. "Hmm, speaking of Ryua, can she make it to tomorrow's meeting? Check, by the way…" Ron asked, moving his Bishop up the chessboard.

"Yes, she said she's got Fridays and Saturdays off, remember?" Hermione said, reading a book.

"Good…" Harry said distractedly, trying to figure out why Ron had moved such a good piece right beside his Castle. _It must be a trap. Even I couldn't miss the opportunity to take the piece… but he's got to have a trap set somewhere…_

"…Harry are you even paying attention to me?" Hermione said, having put down her book after three minutes of trying to talk to him.

"Hmm? Hermione, did Ron set a trap here?"

"Ugh. I'm going to bed," she said, stomping upstairs.

"Ron? What was that about?"

"No idea mate. You gonna move, or what?"

"Yeah, yeah…" Knowing very well that he was walking right into a trap he couldn't see, Harry moved his Castle over one space and it clubbed the bent little bishop across the board, forcing two pawns and a knight to duck out of the way. Ron nudged his knight (_His favorite piece, why, _why_ don't I watch it more?),_ which did a spectacular leap over Harry's castle, and landed squarely on top of the king.

"Checkmate!" Ron crowed. He stretched, and looked around the room for people to brag to. "Man, where'd everyone go?"

"Bed. It's late, Ron."

"Oh well, we've only got one more day. Then, we can sleep all we want." He summoned his bishop from under the chair, piling his battered pieces into the equally battered case. "So, what're we doing for the meeting?"

"Just review. There's no point in starting something new when everyone leaves for three weeks. It's not like we're thinking of much more than eating, sleeping, and presents anyway."

"I think Cho's got more on her mind," Ron said slyly.

"What? No…" Harry said, forcing his own struggling pieces into their case.

"Yes… even I've noticed it, mate. So, are you gonna go for it?"

"Go for what?"

"Well, she'll be at the DA meeting, I'm sure. And you know how much mistletoe the elves hang up around the school."

Harry coughed slightly, then said, "I'm going to bed."

Later that night, just before Harry was fully asleep, he heard Ron whisper, "Sweet dreams…" _If I had more ambition, I'd throw a pillow…_

At the same time, Ryua was writing out _I will act as befits my station_ left handed for what she ferverently hoped would be the last time. She glanced up to see the clock strike eleven, slammed down her quill, and took off, not waiting for Umbridge to dismiss her. Down the hall, into the bathroom where she'd hidden fresh bandages and numbing cream which came by owl earlier that month. Bandages wrapped, extra blood washed from her fingers and wrist, and back out the door. She knew she should sleep, but was way too worked up.

Instead, she picked up her winter cloak from the Entrance Hall, slipping on gloves and a hat as she went. The sky was clear, with the stars shining down, and a nearly full moon illuminating the snow. No wind, and although the air had quite a bite to it, a perfect night for a workout. Ryua unlocked the broom closet. As a Quidditch captain, her fingerprint was keyed to the door, one of the few people in the school who could open it whenever she wanted. She pulled out her own broom, and took off as soon as she latched the door.

_Maybe not as good as cursing something, but the next best thing. And legal too._ There was nothing like a good flight to clear her head, and calm her nerves. She spent a full hour out there, looping the quidditch poles, rocketing up until the air got too thin to breathe, diving down within a foot of the ground, shooting through the forbidden forest, dodging birds, squirrels, and an angry centaur. It was only after she was skimming the lake, looking at her shadow on the snow, catching glimpses of the giant squid under the wind-swept places, that her hands started to throb from the cold. And at the broom closet, she noticed her face, the parts not covered by her hat and scarf, were completely numb and oddly prickly.

The rest of her, however, felt great. Ryua's mind was still soaring through the moonlight, her body fully tired by the long, cold flight. And best of all, her bed actually felt warm compared to the icy air outside.

Morning came far too early, of course, but she was bolstered by the fact that there was just one day left. And the day actually went good. Cassie force-fed her blueberry pancakes, chatting happily all the while, Flitwick took pity on them and postponed the essay until after Christmas, McGonnagall complemented her on her kneazle transfiguration… it just kept going well.

Until just before the DA meeting. Umbridge apparently wanted to quash any Christmastime romances, and had sent out all prefects to patrol the hallways. Hermione, Ron, and Justin begged off sick, of course (got to love Fred and George's skiving snackboxes…), but that didn't mean that it was any easier for Ryua to sneak up from the dungeons. She was nearly caught once, and a second time by Pucey, who didn't bother to ask where she was going. This early in the evening, it didn't matter if she was out, but she knew questions would be asked. Slytherins kept to themselves, they didn't wander around the school proper.

It was a good meeting once everyone arrived, though. Harry divided everyone up, and they all had a grand old time jinxing each other around the room. Ron and Hermione were actually flirting, if Ryua could believe her eyes. Neville disarmed, properly stunned, and even managed a jelly-legs jinx. Dobby, apparently, had set out a whole lot of snacks as well as decorations, and it turned into a much more festive occasion than usual.

All too soon, nine-o'clock rolled around, and people tricked out by ones and twos. "What's with all the prefects and teachers out tonight?" Harry muttered as he waved two Hufflepuffs out the door.

"Umbridge. She decided to try and catch any Christmas lovebirds and hand out some detentions for January." Ryua said, stacking pillows.

"You've got one Slytherin, three Ravenclaw prefects, Peeves, and Snape and Umbridge between you and the dungeons."

"Wonderful. Well, if Peeves is down there he's a good distraction, and Snape and the Slytherin prefect should be easy to get around…"

"That still leaves you three prefects and Umbridge. And Peeves is just as likely to turn you in as anything. And didn't you say Pansy confiscated your lethifold?"

Ryua grimaced, putting the last of the books on the shelf. "Yeah… I should be able to get around them. If all else fails, I'll just curse them!"

"Don't you think that's a bit risky?"

She considered, as Harry waved the Fred, George, and Ginny out. "Well, maybe. I really, really don't need any more detention…"

"Okay, I'll take you down."

"We'll clean up and send the rest home, Harry," Hermione said as she came over to take the Marauder's Map.

"Good. Come on." Harry pulled out his cloak and covered the both of them. Ryua had to stifle a giggle as Umbridge walked right past them and didn't even blink. Harry elbowed her side to shush her, but she saw him grinning too. The temptation to send a stinging hex onto her ample rear was almost too good to overcome, but one of the Ravenclaw prefects came around the corner at the last second. With a huge, mock sigh, she pocketed her wand, thinking how much she'd have enjoyed it.

They passed two more prefects down to the common room. "Harry… why do you know where my common room is?" Ryua whispered.

"Hmm? You were leading."

"No, I wasn't."

He looked up and down the corridor. "Okay, in the second year, Hermione brewed up a polyjuice potion. We wanted to find out if you or Draco were the Heir."

"Ah! I thought Crabbe and Goyle seemed a little off that day…"

"Yeah, we didn't do the world's best acting job… what's that on the ceiling?"

"On the ceiling? We're in the dungeons, probably moss." Ryua looked up. "Huh. Mistletoe. Snape must have missed…"

She was cut off by the gentle pressure of Harry's mouth on hers. She wouldn't have been more stunned from a full body bind. Her eyes slowly closed, and just as she started to relax, he pulled away with a whispered oath. Ryua's eyes flew open, and she heard footsteps coming down the corridor. She whipped off the cloak and shoved him down the hallway, hissing the password at the wall. Just as whoever it was rounded the corner, she slipped in and went directly to her bed. With Pansy out on patrol, she at least didn't have to worry about answering any awkward questions.

_What was that?_ Ryua wondered as she changed numbly into her pajamas. _Harry? I thought he liked Chang… And she was so obviously waiting for him tonight. _She rolled into bed, thoughts whirling, and activated the heating web she'd slipped under the covers.

_He was so… gentle… I didn't know…_ All her life, touch usually equaled pain. Lucius hit and cursed her, her mother just hugged her when she felt it was necessary to act motherish, even Draco and Marcus had only touched her to fix something painful. Either they inflicted painful damage, pain during healing, pain by accident… In her experience, people didn't touch for any other reason. Even a friendly clap on the back was rough, often painful, a handshake was so often a test of strength…

_And Zabini…_ well, add that one up. Even for someone raised in a gentle, loving environment, that was a horrifying experience. For someone who already didn't trust physical contact… it went past that. She'd never, ever, for a minute thought that any of that could ever be good. But… _Harry… why Harry? We're from opposing houses, opposing sides… and yet we've been friends… and now, he kisses me. What the hell is that supposed to mean?_

Ah, but you liked it… _Shut up._ Does it really matter what his motives were? _Go away. I'm not having this conversation._ You're friends, and he happened to notice mistletoe…_ I'm not listening to you._ So where does that put you? _I… it's none of your business…_ Ryua, you know you're losing it when you argue with yourself. _Shut up. You started it. And anyway, it's way too dangerous._

That did shut up the stupid little voice. Ryua didn't want to contemplate what her father would do if he found out she was _friends_ with Harry, let alone… what? What were they? It was just an innocent kiss between friends under the mistletoe. Nothing to worry about. Nonetheless, she kept flashing back, the feeling of his soft, hesitant lips… the barest brush of his hand on her back before he heard footsteps… _No. Stop it. Don't think about it. You're going home tomorrow, and if you go home like this, they'll know something's wrong, they'll ask, and ask, and Lucius'll get it out of you eventually…_She chanted this in her head, trying to convince herself. Of course, there was that stubborn little memory, a part of her mind never used… a gentle kiss, a light, interrupted caress…

Harry opened the portrait to the Gryffindor common room to find Ron and Hermione sitting there. "About time. Honestly, does it take that long to get down to the dungeons?" Hermione asked, knitting a red and green elf hat.

"Uh… yeah. Um, had to avoid Mrs. Norris you know…"

"Harry, you okay?" Ron asked, while managing to take up all of one couch.

"Yes…"

"He's right, you seem a little off. Did Luna's befuddlement charm work too well?"

"No… I'm just a little tired…"

Something happened then, that hadn't ever happened before. The light of comprehension dawned in Ron's eyes while Hermione was still looking confused. "You kissed her."

"…Who?"

"Umbridge. _Ryua_, you idiot. You remember, the girl you so nicely took down to the dungeons in your cozy invisibility cloak…"

Hermione actually put down her hat. "You did?" she squeaked.

"Er… yeah…"

"HA!" Ron yelled, startling Trevor out from under a chair. "So, how was it?"

"Actually… she seemed kind of shocked…"

"Well of course she did!" Hermione said, looking him over worriedly. "She didn't curse you, did she?"

"No…"

"C'mon, Hermione, this is great! What're you so worried about?"

"You…" she trailed off, mind whirling. "You have to promise never, ever to tell anyone what I'm going to say. She made me promise not to tell."

"Okay."

"You've probably heard by now that she killed Zabini, right?"

"Yeah, some rumor huh?" Ron said, still giddy.

"It's true."

"What? Why'd she do that?"

"Because… oh… she's going to kill me for this… he tried to…" she ground to a halt, throat working

"Hermione… you can't just stop in the middle of a story like that."

"She made me promise not to tell you, she wanted me to say it was in self defense…"

Harry, who lived in the muggle world where girls didn't have magical protection and such things were blared across the news, got it first. "No. He wasn't that dumb, was he?"

"Yeah, I guess he was."

Ron looked blankly between them. "What? I'm feeling kind of out of the loop here…"

"I can't believe how stupid I was. I'm lucky she didn't panic and kill me… If Zabini actually did that…"

"Yes, but she actually likes you, Harry. Zabini… she loathed him, as much as you hate Snape, and to have him touch her… The Ministry judged it an accidental death, of course, she didn't mean to do it."

By now, even Ron was starting to catch on. "Ouch. You are lucky to be alive."

"I can't believe I did that to her. She's going to hate me… she's probably wondering how I dared invade her space like that right now… reviewing all her extensive torture methods…"

"Come on mate, cheer up. If she really wanted to kill you, she'd have done it then, regardless who was watching."

"Yes, she did it through stone manacles and no oxygen last time. I don't think she really wants to kill you over it… although you should probably talk to her after Christmas… Right now though, we should all get some sleep." Hermione said, heading up to the girls' dorms.

"Yeah…" Harry gulped, absently stopping Trevor from bouncing into the fireplace.

"So… you never really told me how it was…"

"Ron!"

"What? Obviously it was pretty good, you looked a bit floaty coming in the door." He grinned. "So, are you gonna do it again?"

"Well… that all depends on whether she kills me or not, doesn't it?"

Author's Note: Yay! This particular little thing was the first reason I really wanted to write the story. I'm so happy; I'm finally into the parts I actually wanted to write now.

And to top it off, I finally got some drawings online. Illustrations, and a few doodles. So, if you want to take a look (please… pretty please with a chocolate frog on top), I'm on www . mediaminer . org, with the name Ryua. Thanks to all of you who gave me suggestions for that!


	23. Christmas Break

Someday, I will own something of great value. This will not be Harry Potter, as J K Rowling already owns it.

Christmas Break 

Ryua's dreams altered between absolutely horrible, and a warm, comfortable feeling that evaporated far too quickly… either to savor or remember much. Pansy coming to bed woke her up in the middle of a dream about Harry, or Blaise… he seemed to have trouble deciding who he was. _Although, I feel fairly content, so…_ and she was back asleep before she could remember exactly what went on.

Dreams of dark alleys, and dark cloaks… gentle hands and painful shoves… and death no matter who the dream was about. Zabini smashed into a wall, or killed more slowly like she'd have preferred, Harry caught by Pansy, by Crabbe and Goyle, by Lucius, or the Dark Lord… and she of course imagined terrible ways for him to die, hyperactive imagination that she had.

Somehow, according to whatever fate finally decided to like her, she woke up remembering the kiss. As long as she didn't try to remember it, she didn't recall the horrific things that always followed…

So, she had a perfectly cheerful morning, waking up before everyone, having a luxurious hot shower, checking her homework pile and finding it empty… and Cassie was playing with her snake in the common room. She was one of those people who cheered everyone up, and amplified good moods. Who knows what she was doing in Slytherin, but Ryua was glad she was here.

Harry wasn't at breakfast, which was odd considering he had no family to visit, and the train for that hadn't even left yet. _You just wanted him to kiss you again…_ No, I didn't. Go away, little irritating voice.

Of course, the fact that the little irritating voice was right only made it worse.

And then, it sunk in that if Harry, Hermione, and all the Weasleys at the school were home, she'd be going later today too. That nearly killed off her good mood right there. Instead of letting the unfamiliar but wonderful feeling go away, she just ignored the trip as long as possible. She joined Cassie in stuffing Ashley and Pucey full of Belgian waffles and fruit salad, imagined Umbridge choking on a cherry stone, gave Dobby a big Christmas hug and a pair of hot pink knee socks that could probably cover his entire body if he tried hard enough… and even petted Mrs. Norris, whom to her surprise, purred.

All too soon, though, it was time to board the train, with their smaller holiday bags. No point in lugging those massive school trunks when it wasn't necessary. Draco went off with Pansy, probably to try and impress her by terrifying some poor first years. The sad thing was, it would probably work…

So she sat with Ashley and Cassie instead. Mostly, Cassie talked, with Ryua and Ashley throwing in the occasional comment. At least, Ryua thought she was responding to the conversation. How was she to know just how distant her expression was? "Ryua… your response to a threesome of McGonnagall, Crabbe, and Goyle was 'yeah, sounds good…' Are you feeling okay?"

"Huh? Sorry…"

"You do seem a little off in another world…" Ashley said, looking closely at her.

"Really?"

"Yes… what were you thinking about?"

"Nothing," was Ryua's immediate response.

"Right. Sure, we're going to believe that."

Cassie grinned, suddenly looking as evil as a Slytherin is supposed to. "You were out with someone last night. I can tell!"

"No!"

"Deny it all you want… we know the truth!" Cassie crowed. "So… who was it?"

"I wasn't out last night."

"Yes you were, I heard you come in," Ashley said, getting interested in the conversation.

"Come on… admit it…"

"Fine. I did get caught under the one piece of mistletoe Snape missed. Happy?"

"Not yet! You haven't told us who it was!"

"And I won't tell you, either."

"Aww... Meanie!"

"Yeah, I can't believe you've led us on this far…"

"Too bad, I'm not telling." Inside, Ryua sighed a big sigh of resignation. As much as she liked living in that comfortable, happy little dream world, she couldn't stay there. If her friends, who actually liked to see her happy, noticed, than Lucius, who seemed to make it a point of his life to destroy happiness, certainly would. She tried thinking of all the ways she'd thought up to kill Zabini last night, then decided it was still too cheerful. Then, Cassie's suggestion of McGonnagall, Crabbe, and Goyle invaded her mind and drove out any pleasant, happy thoughts… So she was perfectly rational, if a little disgusted by the time they reached the platform.

Lucius hadn't ever looked so happy. He practically strutted around, nose in the air, his highest-quality robes billowing in the crisp December air, eyes bright and glittering with veiled excitement. Narcissa looked terrible, on the other hand. Most would see a pretty, dignified woman. To Ryua, however, the signs of stress showed, the way her robes were a bit looser than before, her hair wasn't nearly as fancy as usual, and the extravagant makeup was there to cover shadowed eyes and pale skin, not a sign that she wanted to look beautiful. _Poor mother… this hasn't been an easy time for her._

There was the usual hand on the shoulder from Lucius, and the peck on the cheek from their mother (_Not as good as Harry… shut up!) _and they were off to the floo platform. Narcissa left immediately for the solarium, Lucius headed for his private study, and the twins were left in the entrance hall. "Yeesh. Have they gotten worse, or is it just me?" Draco asked, looking after his mother's disappearing shadow.

"Yeah. Mother looks exhausted, did you notice?"

"No kidding. Hope he hasn't been too hard on her."

"Sure. This _is_ our father we're talking about…"

"… I suppose." Draco sighed. "How long do you suppose we can just stay in our rooms and avoid him altogether?"

"You, probably as long as you want. He likes you. I, on the other hand, will probably be called down this evening for daring to play Quidditch, and for losing the match against Gryffindor while I'm at it."

"And for trying to curse Pansy… and don't forget about the matching scars across your palms..."

"Thanks for that vote of confidence."

Ryua was wrong. Lucius called them both down that evening. Actually, it was late enough that it could nearly be called morning, and they both stumbled half asleep out of their rooms, clad in pajamas, house robes, and slippers. They were most of the way down the stairs when Draco whispered, "There's someone here."

"Who?" Ryua asked, realizing with a terrible sinking feeling that she'd left her wand on top of her school trunk.

"I have no idea. He's talking with our parents, I think."

Ryua listened, and could hear Lucius' familiar light baritone, an occasional murmured word from Narcissa, and, yes, a new voice. Male, strangely high-pitched… and with the same cold superiority normally filling Lucius' voice. Which was now oddly respectful and even held a touch of flattery.

"Is it the Minister, maybe?" Draco asked, both of them having slowed down to a near-silent crawl.

"I don't know, I don't think so…" Ryua whispered back, reaching the final landing. Half a dozen more steps… "I don't really want to find out, actually…"

"No choice, Father'll come looking for us if we don't…" and they were at the bottom of the stairs anyway. They crossed the hall, and Draco reached for the doorknob. "…Does it feel cold to you, all the sudden?"

"No-yes, actually…" And then, her sleep fogged brain clicked, and she could tell by the look on Draco's face that his did too.

"No. No, it couldn't be. He's still in hiding… he couldn't be here..."

"If he's still in hiding, then he can't do anything, right? Not now, not yet…"

"Not while we'll still be going back to school…"

Ryua bit down on her flow of panicked speech. "We really don't have much of a choice. Might as well open the door, Draco. Present a brave front, and all that."

"Right. Like anyone's going to believe that…" But, he did open the door, and even kept the quiver in his fingers almost unnoticeable.

_Well, what do you say to the Dark Lord at two in the morning? _Ryua said, keeping her mind busy to avoid the instinctual rush of fear and respect. _I mean, most people, they dream of meeting Lords and Kings in their best robes, during a scheduled meeting… and here we are in our pajamas… _She bit down a giggle, figuring it wasn't maybe the best course of action considering it would come out as non-stop hysterical giggle.

Next to her, she could feel Draco fighting a similar internal battle to keep his fear at bay. _Why doesn't he talk? Why does he just stand there? It's driving me nuts…_

"So… these are your children, Lucius? Fine specimens…" he said, turning to face them. White, scaled skin, which looked good on Parsyl and utterly disturbing on this strange, skeletal human figure, slitted red eyes, flat nose, long thin hands holding, of all things, a cup of tea with what appeared to be a honey spoon in it. Ryua forced down another hysterical giggle.

"I'm glad you approve, My Lord," Lucius said, bowing slightly. Narcissa sat, pale and suppressing trembles, her own cup of tea forgotten and cold in her hands.

"A son, I see, he should match your height within a year… good, strong features, plenty of magic. And not as cocky as his father. Maybe you should watch your position, I might decide I like your son better." A high, cold laugh, as he enjoyed what probably seemed like a fantastically good joke to him. Draco stood, eyes just low enough to not make eye contact, somehow managing to look calm and respectful, although Ryua saw his hands knotted up behind him, felt his utter terror. Lucius laughed, although hollowly, and Narcissa managed a grimace that could have been taken for a smile, her hands tightening on her cup of tea.

"And a daughter too, you have been busy. She's much like you, this one…" Ryua felt cold, dry fingers on her chin and jerked away before she fully registered it, glaring up at him before she could repress the reflex. "Hah! This one's got some fire in her. Don't you teach your children to respect their betters?"

"Repeatedly," Lucius said dryly.

Ryua swallowed, and told her irritating little voice to shut up, but instead came out with, "When I meet some, I'll be sure to respect them."

For a split second, she seriously thought she was going to die. The look on his face was beyond doubt, the worst thing she'd ever seen. She forced her hands to relax, preparing for a shield spell. _Right, like that'll do any good…_And then, his expression changed, becoming less angry, more amused, and anticipatory. Which was worse, much worse than before. "I think I need to teach you the meaning of deference, child." Ryua saw his hand reach for a wand, and she steeled herself, working the first part of her best shield, refusing to look down. And then, just as he was pulling it out…

"No." Came a quiet, almost unfamiliar voice. His hand stopped, and he turned incredulously to stare at Narcissa, who had just uttered the first declarative statement she'd made in years.

"What did you say, woman?" He hissed, eyes narrowing.

She swallowed, and set down her teacup, which was shaking so badly that tea was sloshing out. "No. You will not touch my children."

Lucius was completely floored, along with the twins. They stood there, watching, as the frail, terrified, furious Narcissa stood up and faced down the Dark Lord. Ryua had never seen her stand up to even her children before, and apparently it was new to the Dark Lord as well. "I do not believe it is in any way your choice. Sit down, Narcissa."

"No. You will not touch them." She walked around the low coffee table, and stopped suddenly, blocked by a very basic, very frustrating, invisible wall spell.

His too-thin lips curled back in a sneer. "You don't appear to have any abilities to stop me." He started drawing his wand again, chuckling at her struggles to get through. Ryua took a deep breath, holding her hands ready to finish her shield spell as he turned towards her. "Chastisiae!"

_You have got to be joking me. _Ryua didn't even bother to block it, just set her jaw and let the three whip marks roll down her back. He was much better at it than Lucius, but still it wasn't very bad. "That's the best you can do?" she said, not even the littlest bit winded.

For one brief moment, it was worth it. The look on his face, when he saw this little fifteen year old girl in fuzzy slippers standing up to him… priceless. Of course, it didn't last long. "Staticsea!"

Ryua threw up the shield, but he just poured enough power into it to shatter the spell. This one was worse, especially on her new welts, and the healing scabs on her hands. Still… nothing she hadn't handled before. She gritted her teeth, hunched her shoulders, and tucked her elbows into her palms. It didn't last too long, and she was staring calmly back up at his face momentarily afterwards. "Shouldn't… have let Lucius curse me… so much." Ryua said, in between breaths. _Who ever would have guessed that would do any good?_ On the other side of the wall, Narcissa redoubled her efforts. She'd seen that particular look on the Dark Lord's face before…

Ryua saw it too, recognized the same level of rage as Lucius had worn so many times… She swallowed so she wouldn't choke, rolled her tongue back so she wouldn't bite through it, and clenched her teeth. "Crucio!"

Author's Note: Hah! Yes, evil cliffee… actually, the chapter was just getting too long so I cut it in half. I'm so glad everyone liked that last chapter, I love getting that much feedback.


	24. Escape

Someday, I will own something of great value. This will not be Harry Potter, as J K Rowling already owns it.

Escape

Behind the wall, Narcissa was going mad. That was her _daughter_, and he was hurting her… her son was pale with reflected pain, head bowed and trying to ignore the screams. And she couldn't do anything, she was weak, she had no talent, not enough magic, not enough courage…

And then something snapped, when Ryua slid to the ground, cracking her cheekbone on the coffee table. Narcissa's mind suddenly cleared. Those were her children he was hurting. She was their mother. Therefore, she would do anything to protect them. She'd been expecting death for years now, a cleverly laid accident, maybe getting killed by a rogue dark wizard, maybe an out and out murder. Whatever the way, Narcissa knew she would die. She didn't fear it, it couldn't be worse than the life she led now…

Lucius was watching their Lord with far to much enthusiasm. He didn't even see Narcissa's knee come up, until the thin bone connected with something much, much softer. He collapsed with a strange, extremely undignified wheeze, clutching what promised to be some very bruised body parts. Narcissa pulled out his wand on the way down, and blasted down the barrier.

She strode over, the strange sense of calm resignation mixing with utter fury. "I said, you will not touch my children. You will never again touch my children!" She was too out of practice to manage much in the way of finesse, but raw emotion lent strength to the simple fire charm. The Dark Lord shrieked with fury and pain, dropping the wand from his smoking, well charred fingertips. Behind her, Narcissa heard Ryua slump to the ground, Draco kneeling to break her fall.

"You foolish woman. You should have just stayed out of the way!" he hissed, picking up his wand left-handed.

"You should have let them be." Narcissa said, Lucius' wand held straight out in front of her in a defiantly 'good guy' dueling stance.

"What do you expect to do?" he asked, with a low, unamused laugh. "Kill me?"

"If that is what it takes," she said back. "You will never have my children, I swear it."

"…I swear it." Ryua heard her mother say. Shaking her pain fogged head, she looked up to see Lucius kneeling dumbstruck on the floor, and Narcissa, wand held out in front of her for the first time she'd ever seen, standing between them and the Dark Lord. She was just pushing herself up, trying to shake off Draco's shaking, worried hands, when the room appeared to explode. The twins were shoved back to the floor by their mother, her hands covering the backs of their heads, pushing their faces down.

Ryua felt Narcissa's body shudder from heavy blows, felt something sharp lance across Draco's leg, felt her right arm seem to catch fire… and something hard crack against the top of her skull. She saw spinning stars for a moment, then forced herself to look up before her vision even cleared all the way. It appeared that just the coffee table, and the numerous dishes, books and statuary on it had exploded, although that seemed quite enough. There were chunks of oak actually embedded in the walls, shards of porcelain and stone everywhere, the pillow Lucius had managed to grab at the last second was a near pincushion of splinters and shards. Of course, the Dark Lord had been protected by a shield, as the piles of shrapnel around him showed.

She took stock of her more immediate surroundings then. Draco was still kneeling, with a nasty bleeding gash with what appeared to be a piece of teacup halfway up his calf, her own arm was burning, full of tiny slivers and her cheek had been cut open from her fall earlier. Strange, there was a lot more blood around that that should have caused…

With a shock, she found her mother's head buried in her neck. Forcing her still-fumbling fingers to respond, Ryua pushed her up and over, supporting her head with one hand and the back with another. There was a disquieting, unnatural shift when she moved her, however. No one's spine should bend that way…

Draco choked back a gag, averting his eyes from the far too numerous bits of wood, dripping blood onto the floor, pretending not to see the shape of broken bones pressing against her robes. "Mother…"

"Oh, my children… I'm so… sorry…" she said, in a voice faint and broken.

"For what?" Ryua asked, futilely trying to staunch some of the blood coming through her back, saturating her robes.

"I... should have… done more…" she coughed once and shuddered, flecks of blood coming out to her lips. "Please… forgive… me…"

"Of course," Draco said, wiping off the blood. Ryua nodded fervently, trying to bottle up her rage. That wouldn't help a bit right now… what she needed was a clear mind, maybe a healthy dose of fear.

"Go…" came a faint, pained whisper. Narcissa couldn't manage more than that anymore. Ryua saw that she was no longer focusing on their faces, and felt the strained heartbeat become erratic. That soft, but urgent word snapped her mind back into working order, her energy channeled to action instead of anger.

"Run, Draco," she said, laying their mother's head on the floor and hauling him up. He was limping badly, but the adrenaline and fear kept him from noticing pain, luckily.

"Our wands… homework…"

"No time! We can't stay here." Ryua half supported, half dragged him down the hall, wondering why they weren't being chased, then dismissing it as unimportant. As long as they got away…

They burst into the floo room, and Draco fumbled for the jar while Ryua locked the door behind them, and shoved a chair under the handle for insurance. "Here, take some," he said, one shaking hand already grasping a pinch. "Where too, Snapes'? No, somewhere public… okay, Dia-"

"No! Knockturn, we can't go to Diagon looking like this."

"Right…"

Lord Voldemort stood in the wreckage-strewn sitting room, glaring down at the twins and their stupid, stupid mother. Just as she finally died, and they started moving, he reached out with a spell to grab them. Much to his surprise, it slid right off. Furious, he tried to move after them physically, only to find himself balked. With a snarl of rage, he turned towards Lucius. He could move in that direction, no problem. "Your offspring are escaping, thanks to that fool of a woman."

"My… my lord, I had no idea she would do anything like that…"

"And now, after being humiliated by a pair of fifteen-year old brats, I find myself unable to come in contact with them. Why do you suppose that might be, Lucius?"

"I do not know, my Lord… They are probably headed for the Snape manor… we could catch them there…" he broke off with a gulp at the expression on his face.

"I doubt it. Your daughter alone seems to have more intelligence than you by a long shot. They would know very well that I could follow them there. And that was not my question!" Lucius cringed at the tone of his voice. "I asked why you thought they were able to get away!"

"I… I do not know… I apologize, my Lord…"

"I had hoped, over these last fourteen years, that you would raise your children in your image, Lucius. That they would be your children, under your rule, following your example. And yet, here I am, finding that the frail creature you sired them on was able to completely overthrow your power. I am starting to wonder at my reasons for keeping you so high up in my service."

"No! My Lord, I swear, I will not fail you again…"

"I should believe you… why?"

"I…" Lucius' throat worked, but nothing came out. His mind was buzzing, trying frantically to come up with some way, some way to buy his life and well being out of this mess…

"I grow tired of your incompetence, Lucius." Voldemort's voice came, cold and bored. He raised his wand, then with a look of fury, switched it from his well-burned right hand to his left.

Lucius knew he had been in trouble before. Now, reminded of Narcissa's infuriating rebellion, the Dark Lord was in a much, much worse mood. There had to be something he could do… "Wait my Lord!"

"Why?"

"I… Narcissa, what she said…"

"You make less sense than Crabbe after a night at the Hogshead."

"She said her children, Lord, that can be maneuvered around…"

"You have ten seconds."

Lucius didn't even take the chance to swallow, just started talking. "Her children… she said you would never touch her children… If… if… they won't be children, not forever. If you cannot touch them as children, once they come of age…"

Luckily for him, Voldemort actually made some sense of his frantic babble. A slow smile spread, or at least the fury melted from his face. "I see. You will find a way to explain this Lucius. Do not bother bringing them back, they will not go far. They will come home after term, I am sure. But," and his voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, "If you fail me again, Lucius, you will regret it for a very, very long time."

As he swept out the door, Lucius collapsed back to the floor. He winced as he heard a minor explosion down the hall, then realized it must have just been the floo door. The twins would have blocked it… He looked around at the room, shards of china and oak coffee table littering the room, stuck into furniture and walls, and of course, Narcissa sprawled at an unnatural angle on the ground. _That's going to leave a terrible stain; I'll have to get new carpet._

Ryua and Draco stumbled out of the fireplace, already moving to get presentable. "Against the wall, Draco. You won't get much farther with your leg like that."

He didn't argue, just leaned tiredly back into a corner, keeping all his weight on his good leg. Not bothering to be delicate, Ryua rinsed her fingers in hot water, hoping to at least get all of Narcissa's blood off first, and pulled the shard of cup out. Draco somehow managed to suppress a yelp, but she felt his muscles tense all up and down his leg. "Sorry." She wrapped it up in one of Lucius' favorite white silk scarves, taking an inordinate amount of pleasure in the thought that it would never wash clean. "It seems almost funny, you know? A teacup…"

He giggled, a high-pitched, frantic sound. "How morbid are we? Our mother's been killed, we're both bleeding and bruised, and here we are, amused by teacups and stained silk…" he broke off into more giggles. Ryua suspected they were just one minute step from sobs. That's why she wasn't even going to start herself. And why he had to stop. They couldn't very well walk into Diagon Alley hysterical. So, she pulled the bandage maybe a little harder than it required, and as he was cut of by a sharp gasp of pain, she relaxed the pressure and tied it off.

"You have to calm down, Draco. We can't stay here very long, and we can't get out of here unless we look normal."

"Okay… okay…" he panted, stepping down on his leg, testing his strength. "What about you? Your arm's bleeding…"

"Hmm? Oh, slivers. Lotsa slivers, they'll have to wait." Ryua stepped to the sink, slipping a pair of tweezers into her pocket as she blasted cold water. She rinsed out the cut on her cheek, wishing they kept a first aid kit in their floo rooms. "Oh, this is going to bruise up so bad…"

"Yeah. And it's not going to stop bleeding either… here." Draco put a clumsy sealing charm on the cut, and it scabbed over enough to look like an old cut. "That'll hold for now. We'll just have to say it was a bad quidditch match or something."

"Uh-huh… Here, we have to get out of torn, bloody pajamas and slippers. Let's see what we have…" Narcissa had started to neglect her wardrobe lately. There was a pair of heels, a plain black dress with a torn sleeve, which she promptly removed both of with Lucius' razor… and that was it. Lucius, of course had many sets of robes, and Draco was big enough to fit into them not too badly. Ryua settled one of his great cloaks on her shoulders, emptied every pocket in the place for gold, and they left.

She would have liked to say they felt immediately better, but the strange, hollowly numb feeling stuck to both of them. It was like having been to a smokers' house, even after you leave, the smell, the taste of smoke lingers. This late, even Knockturn Alley was fairly empty, the only people being out were, like themselves, preferring not to interact.

Diagon Alley was completely deserted, and they got to the Leaky Cauldron with no problems. The gold they'd taken from the room would at least cover one night's board, as they mutually decided a visit to Gringotts' would have to wait. Ryua's voice was more reliable, so she walked up to the counter and asked for a room for two, with breakfast in the morning. The half-asleep wizard didn't even blink, just took the gold and led them up to a room. The moment he left again, Ryua lifted off the cloak with a relieved, painful sigh. All the minute, and not so minute, slivers had been catching on the rough fabric since she'd put it on, creating a constant, pulling, burning sensation.

Wordlessly, Draco threw the bolt on the door and motioned her to sit down. She did, concentrating on relaxing the muscles in her arm as he picked up the tweezers. "You know… I've been hit with an awful lot of curses now… And these blasted little buggers are causing me more pain…" She winced as Draco pulled out a particularly large one.

"Yeah, there are a lot of them… but you don't want any of these left in. Thomas, Dean Thomas? His dad's a cabinetmaker, he knows a lot about slivers. They have a nasty habit of festering and preventing a wound from healing."

"Lovely…" Ryua gritted her teeth. She bent her head down, concentrating on not paying her attention to her arm, ignoring the painful, oddly satisfying flashes of fire as he pulled them out one by one.

Quite suddenly, he stopped. "Ryua, I know there are probably more in there, but there's no way I'm getting them out now. No wand, no training… and my vision's blurring, I'll grab something that's supposed to stay in there…"

"Yeah, it's good enough. I'm going to fall over if I don't lie down soon." Ryua laid onto her side, grimaced and flipped over as she felt a few more slivers catch on the mattress, growled as her extremely tender cheek flared with pain, and settled for sleeping on her back. Not very comfortable, and it felt too open, too vulnerable, but much better than squishing either injury during the night.

She vaguely heard a knocking during the night, and then Draco getting up. Glad she didn't have to move, she just drifted back to sleep. The next morning, she woke to see three owls on the dresser, fast asleep. She tensed to see one of the family's great gray owls, but relaxed as she recognized her own burrowing owl and Draco's eagle owl flanking it. And on the floor…

"Yeah, they came during the night. Toppy must have sent them out. Yours came with our wands, the other two carrying this…" Draco hefted a bag which Ryua was overjoyed to see contained her personal first-aid kit. "I already fixed myself up. This is really good stuff, where'd you get it?" he asked, pulling out an anti-swelling cream.

"Earlier this year, I ordered it because I was tired of bleeding all over my homework."

"Huh. Good thing you did. This should keep your cheek from turning all sorts of lovely colors. How's your back?"

"Sore, but he's better at it than Lucius. The skin's not broken, it'll be fine for now. Would you finish my arm? Then we can go to Gringotts, and shopping."

"Shopping? You want to go shopping?" he asked, pulling out his wand and examining the raw patch on her arm. "This is going to hurt, by the way, brace yourself."

She did, trying to think of something else. She bit down on a yell as he summoned the last bits of wood, but could immediately feel the difference. The badly healed flesh was torn open, but there were no more foreign objects inside to interfere. "Ah… that feels so much better. And, although you have high-end, quality robes, it's only one set, and I'm stuck in an emergency-tailored dress. We need some clothes to last us over Christmas." Draco spread on some quick-heal gel, wrapped on a bandage, and stuck down the end just as there was a knock on the door. She walked quickly to the bathroom and turned on the shower while Draco took the breakfast tray.

"Mmm, you'd better come out, or I'll eat it all…" she heard him say, likely drooling over the food. Ryua was absolutely famished too, the adrenaline of last night having worn off long ago, leaving her drained. She turned off the water, not getting too wet, and went out to eat. A healthy stack of pancakes, a fruit cup, bowl of yogurt, and a tall glass of grapefruit juice later, they were both feeling slightly more like themselves. "I love food," Draco said, licking the last of the maple syrup off his knife.

"Me too."

Draco set it down, with an odd, disquieted expression on his face. "Ryua… do you think there's something wrong with us?"

"Wrong? How?"

"Well, eight hours ago, we were woken up, looked over by the Dark Lord, you were tortured, and we watched our mother killed right in front of us. And do you know what I feel? Kind of… numb, or even nonchalant. Like it's done, and now it's over and we don't have to worry about it. Shouldn't we feel, like, sad? Or horrified?"

"Maybe," Ryua replied, using her fingers to comb out her hair. "Probably, I guess. But, you know, we were never exactly close. And it's not like we're complete strangers to pain, right?"

"I guess. It just seems like… I don't know. I'm more worried about how we're going to cover this up, how we're going to explain away the fact that our mother's dead, we're not at home…"

"Leave it up to Lucius. This is all his fault, he can deal with it." She said, savagely. "We'll pick up the Daily Prophet every day, check the obituaries, see what the story is so we'll know what to say when we get back to school." Although, she was slightly worried at how blandly she thought about it. _Mother, she died for us. Why aren't I sad? Why don't I feel anything? _Well, the answer for that was survival. Once they were settled, had enough gold to last them till school, knew they weren't being tracked, then, she could feel. And she knew what she'd feel. _Sorrow? Not a chance. Anger, hate, revenge… now those I have in abundance. Lucius is going to pay for this. She never did anything to him, never. And he up and lets her get killed, doesn't even say anything! _Ryua was starting to feel a tingle of warmth under the strange, numbing fog in her heart. A warmth that she knew would grow to a fully-fledged inferno before long.

Author's Note:Wow. I can't believe the feedback over the last two chapters! This is so cool!

KarrotMonster, yeah, I've been wanting to put Harry back in, but they have to get back to school first... and it would suck to get caught, wouldn't it? Heh, heh...

Avalon 65, thanks for getting back to me. I've had the occasional computer conniption fit myself... and yes, I think I will develop that. That's a good idea.

And to JeannieBeannie33, I considered using Draco's POV, actually, but Narcissa really just had to have this chapter, don't you think? And I've been debating having her chased by the entire Order, etc., I'll have to see how it unfolds. Maybe I'll put that in an AU story... That was the chapter it would spring from, actually, so I could write it now if I wanted.

To Rain4Life, yeah, it's not quite as nice a chapter... but I've been dreaming up all sorts of nice moments for later!

Starbuckkitty, I'm glad you liked the mistletoe chapter. It took me weeks to write, it has been living in my head for literally, more than a year.

So, thanks everyone, and I'll try to keep the chapters full ofstuff, or whatever it is that's got all of you so excited!


	25. Snape Manor

Someday, I will own something of great value. This will not be Harry Potter, as J K Rowling already owns it.

Snape Manor

Severus Snape had just finally gotten to sleep the evening he and his niece had come home when he was rudely awoken by the sound of his fireplace accepting a floo traveler. Groggily, he looked over at his clock, and with a rush of worry, saw it was only 2:53. _There shouldn't be anyone here at this time of night. Maybe there's been an emergency with the Order, or…_ He slid out of his bed, grabbing his wand from under his pillow as he went. Ever since The Dark Lord came back, and the Order was reformed, he had decided a little extra paranoia never hurt anyone.

And sure enough, his Dark Mark pricked ominously with every step he took closer to the entrance hall where the floo fireplace was kept. His house, although nowhere near as elaborate or large as the Malfoy manor, was still built in the highborn wizard style, a separate entrance hall, two guest rooms (filled with potions ingredients and books) plus a multi-purpose room (presently set up as a workroom), a dining hall (which he and Ashley never used, preferring to eat in the kitchens downstairs), living room… everything a 'civilized' house ought to have. Not that he ever used any of it…

Angrily, he clamped down on his mental chatter. The Dark Lord wasn't going to care how his house was set up. He didn't exactly call for tea, especially not at three in the morning. Taking a deep breath, he pushed open the door to the main hall, to see the Dark Lord bursting through the carved door of the entrance hall. "My Lord, may I ask what I can do for you?"

"Severus," he said, in his low, hissing voice, the one he used when annoyed. "Where are the Malfoy twins?"

"The twins my Lord? Should they not be at home? Their names were not on the list to stay at Hogwarts…"

"They _were_ home, Severus. And now, they've left. I was curious to see if they had come here."

"Not to my knowledge, my Lord. There has been no one else in the house besides myself and my niece since we got home."

"Your niece… Ashley, correct? Would she know of their whereabouts?"

"I… I do not know my Lord, she is sleeping…" he trailed off as he heard footsteps coming down from Ashley's rooms. "Or was… I will ask her for you…"

"No need, I believe I can do so myself."

For Ashley had just opened her door. "Uncle, what's going on…" she trailed off as the door swung closed, revealing Lord Voldemort.

"Ashley, isn't it? You know the Malfoy twins?"

"Uh… yes, yes sir."

"Did they tell you of any plans to travel during the holidays? Anywhere they planned to visit?"

"No… not that I can recall. Usually, they just stay at home… unless the whole family goes somewhere…"

"I see. I will take my leave of you then, Severus, I have something more important to attend to. If they turn up here, I expect you to contact me immediately."

"Of course my Lord." Snape said, with a bow. He didn't rise again until he'd left, and Ashley walked over to him.

"What was that all about?"

"Apparently, he visited the Malfoys tonight. And something went wrong."

"Wrong? Ryua and Draco aren't hurt, are they?"

"Possibly. Probably, although I don't think he'd do anything permanent." he sighed, and directed Ashley back towards the sitting room. "I need a drink," he said, crossing to the cabinet. "Do you want one?"

"Um… Uncle Sev? I'm fourteen…"

"Right, right, sorry. I'm a little shaken up."

"I bet. What do you think happened?"

"He's been making rounds of his Death Eaters, checking up on them. He probably thought Lucius would have bred him a veritable army by now," he said, collapsing into an armchair, glass of Firewhisky in his hand.

"Hah. That's so not what happened."

"Oh?"

"Well, Draco's fairly good, I suppose. Not as good about pain or blood as his father though. But Ryua…"

"Unfortunately, Ashley, she is exactly what he wanted. Someone with a talent for curses, a high tolerance for pain, a very rich reservoir of magic… and an undeniable attraction for the Dark Arts."

Ashley sat quietly for a moment, picking fluff off her slippers. "I guess… but there's one problem with that. Ryua won't bow to anyone. Not ever, not even if she'll die otherwise. You've noticed that by now, haven't you?"

"Perhaps you're right… Which would explain why they took off earlier."

"Where would they go? Why didn't they come here?"

"Because of exactly what just happened. If it were anything else, they would come here first, or maybe over to the Crabbes or Goyles. But, the Dark Lord can come here freely, and they knew that. I assume they're probably in Diagon Alley by now."

"You know… something doesn't feel right about this."

"Nothing feels right when _he's _involved."

"That's not what I mean. Have you ever known Ryua to run from anything? I swear, she'd probably finger him and try to curse him back."

Snape looked over at her pensively. "You know… I think you have a point. Something else must have happened."

"I don't suppose that Dark Mark lets you read his mind or anything…"

"Not exactly… But now that you mention it… I did dream about something…"

"What? Don't leave me hanging like that…"

He took a swallow of Firewhisky before continuing. "I remember great fury… pain, in my right hand…"

"His looked kinda burnt, actually…"

"Really? Huh… And something about a woman, a woman infuriating him beyond compare, to a killing rage."

"A killing rage? He didn't kill Ryua… did he?"

"No, he couldn't have. He came here looking for them, remember?"

"Right…"

"The only other woman in that house then would have been Narcissa. But I can't see her ever doing anything like that. She is rather the opposite of Ryua, very meek." Snape said pensively, swirling his glass around.

"So… who else could have done it? Or what could have made her do it?"

"You know… I'm willing to bet Ryua was mouthing off. And that she was getting cursed for it."

"So?"

"As meek and subservient as she is, Narcissa is still a mother. That instinct doesn't much go away. It was probably the only thing she still felt she had any sort of authority in… it could be the only thing to make her stand up to anyone."

"I guess… Do you think he killed her?"

"I'm not sure. I don't think he would do it again, not after the last mother he killed."

"The last mother?"

"Lilly Potter. Harry gained some protection from it, as I'm sure you've heard from rumors by now."

"Sure. So… are they like, immortal now or something?"

"Possible, but unlikely. I think they must have some sort of warding spell set on them, but Narcissa was never as gifted a witch as Lily, or as close to her children. We won't know until we find the twins and learn exactly what was said."

"So are we going to go find them?"

"No. Too dangerous. If he comes back, asking if we've seen them, we can't lie. And I will not betray them to him, not now."

"Okay, I guess. So we have to wait until school starts again?"

"Yes." He downed the rest of the Firewhisky, and looked contemplatively at the cabinet.

"No… that's enough for you tonight. Off to bed with you, or I know you'll have a hangover in the morning, and then I'll have to deal with you being grumpy, sensitive, and shlumpy all day long.

"Shlumpy?"

"Yes, shlumpy. Now go to bed!"

"Yes ma'am…" he said sarcastically, but he did set his glass back on the shelf and followed her out.

Author's Note: I think it was JeannieBeannie33 who asked me to clarify what Narcissa did for the twins. Hopefully this clears it up, and I'll try to expand later on too.

And I found a new reviewer, I was so thrilled! Good to hear from you, Harry Potter Freak 139!


	26. A Surprisingly Enjoyable Christmas

Someday, I will own something of great value. This will not be Harry Potter, as J K Rowling already owns it.

A Surprisingly Enjoyable Christmas

Ryua was sitting motionless on her hotel bed, the only things moving were her fingers, twitching, jerking, moving with incredible speed. Draco, lounging in a chair across the room looked over and said, "You know, it's extremely creepy when you do that."

"Do what?"

"It's like you're possessed by some evil demon or something. You go completely rigid, you know, and you only blink about once every ten minutes. It's creepy," he repeated.

"I can't help it. These stupid mindless clones just… won't… DIE!" she shrieked, flicking her forefingers and thumbs over the controller in her hands. On a muggle TV screen propped on her dresser, a small orange creature riding a polar bear vaulted two holes, a pool of water inhabited by bloodthirsty Orcas, dodged a series of totem poles, and charged headlong into what looked strangely like a lab assistant in a furry coat. Unfortunately, this caused the polar bear to trip, and the bandicoot on top of it to somersault into a snowdrift.

"You know… the whole point of this level is to _avoid_ the enemies."

"That's no fun. And the rest of the game isn't like that."

"Yes, but in the rest of the game, you aren't riding a polar bear."

"That makes no sense. Polar bears are the largest land predator. They eat anything moving they can find, including humans, they have huge teeth, very large claws, and they're nearly ten feet of some serious muscle. Bandicoots, on the other hand, are tiny little marsupials who eat seeds."

Draco laughed as Ryua punctuated every point with a jerk of her controller. "True, but that's a baby polar bear. And anyways… it's a muggle game. Don't expect too much of their intelligence."

"Maybe so…" she said, guiding the little bear through the same section for the twelfth time. She'd slipped into London proper two days ago and bought a TV, Playstation, and the entire selection of Crash Bandicoot games. She was determined to get up to the final boss by the time they got to school, and there were only three days left. Apparently, there were five sections to the second game. She was on the third one, and they were only getting harder.

It had actually been a rather good Christmas, all things considered. The twins had spent the rest of their lifted gold on decent robes the first day the spent in Diagon Alley. To alleviate that, they went to Gringotts' and funneled a fair chunk of the Malfoy vaults into their own private ones, just in case. They'd spent a lot of money and time in the various restaurants, stores, and cafés around Diagon Alley, and had kept carefully clear of Knockturn. They ate Christmas dinner in the Leaky Cauldron, which had an incredibly loud, friendly, rambunctious party going on until three in the morning. Definitely the most cheerful Christmas they'd ever spent in the country.

It wasn't all great, of course. Toppy, sensibly enough, hadn't worried about anything other than their wands and getting hold of Ryua's first aid kit. This meant that their homework was either still sitting at home, or burned in a fit of spiteful fury by Lucius. Both put it entirely out of reach, so they had to buy new books, try to remember the assignments, and write everything out again. And searching the obituaries wasn't exactly cheerful daily reading. Three days after the event, Lucius finally came up with a story. Ryua wondered if anyone else thought it was as stupid of a cover up as she did. The story being bandied about was that Narcissa had been out taking care of one of the prize stallion Hippogriffs, when it mistook a stumble for an attack. No more details were given, other than there was a quiet family funeral, the Hippogriff had been destroyed, and the children were spending the rest of Christmas with a friend of a third cousin on Narcissa's Father's side. "I can't believe we're supposed to go along with something this stupid." Draco had said, looking up from the Daily Prophet.

"I know. You'd think he could come up with something more believable than our Mother being savaged by a Hippogriff. She didn't ever go near the Hippogriffs."

"You know, I bet he did kill the Hippogriff."

"Aw… That would be the black one, the Gyrfalcon cross, remember? He was the only Hippogriff we owned with enough spirit to even think of savaging someone."

"I liked that Hippogriff…" Draco said, folding up the paper and throwing it into the trash.

"Wish he'd find another hobby than killing and torture. It really gets tired after a while." Which is why Ryua had gone and bought her new Playstation. It made for a very satisfying and perfectly legal way of venting her violent emotions.

And then there were the dreams. Even the Malfoy twins couldn't go through something like that and not have bad dreams. They got very used to waking each other up in the middle of the night, then dropping back to sleep almost immediately. Usually, nothing more than a poke in the back or a verbal reassurance was needed.

One night, however, Ryua was deeply, deeply asleep. The dream started out rather well, actually. Ryua hadn't thought much about the night Harry had walked her home, but tonight, she was back under the cloak, going down the halls of Hogwarts. She could feel his warm, strangely familiar presence at her back, and she was just enjoying wandering, trying to get down to the dungeons, because she knew what was supposed to happen once they got there… but she kept seeming to take the wrong turn. She was starting to get rather frustrated after a while, and was going to turn around and ask Harry which way her common room was, because he knew the way, of course, when they rounded the corner. The room beyond, instead of a classroom or hallway, was her living room, the one that she'd last seen as a shattered, bloody mess. It was perfectly clean, everything still where it should be.

She knew it was a bad idea to stay there, because any second now, the Dark Lord would finish his tea and turn around and see them. But for some reason, she couldn't seem to move right. It felt like the cloak was getting to heavy, weighing her down. Ryua knew, logically speaking, that invisibility cloaks don't suffocate people, and if she kept wearing it, Voldemort (funny, how names didn't seem to matter in dreams) couldn't see them. However, logic seemed to have taken a vacation. The cloak was getting heavy, and tight, and she couldn't breathe, it had to come off or she'd die… but if she took off the cloak, he'd turn around and see her there, she knew he would. But, her hands reached up of their own accord and pulled off the cloak. It was like watching a movie, one of the ones where you know the bad guy's behind the door, and the stupid, stupid good guy is going to open the door anyway, and no matter how much you tell him not to, he'll still open it. And exactly like she knew would happen, he turned around and saw her. He got up, hand putting down the teacup and reaching for his wand… and there was a hand on her shoulder, and a mouth against her ear, whispering… "Come with me, I'll take you somewhere safe." And since she knew it was Harry behind her, she turned around and took off after him.

_Something isn't right…_ Voldemort wasn't chasing them, or even yelling at them. He was too quiet, and amused rather than angry. And suddenly, they weren't in Hogwarts anymore; they had turned off the main street of Knockturn Alley into a dark, isolated alley, the neglected space between buildings. Ryua's previously hyperactive mind seemed to slow down, she knew there was something wrong with this place, terribly wrong, and she knew there must be danger somewhere… but she couldn't see it, couldn't remember it… and she got more and more frustrated, knowing there was danger and not being able to do anything about it. She tried to open her mouth, to talk to Harry, tell him to be careful, but she couldn't speak any more than think.

And then everything froze, then picked up at doubletime. Ryua remembered what was dangerous in that dark alley, but didn't even have time to take one step backwards before Harry… no, Blaise rushed her, pinning her to the wall. _No… NO! Not again! Never! NEVER!_ Last time, she'd been helpless, couldn't breathe… no wand! Her wand! _Where…_ She groped around for her wand, knowing it was close, she always kept it close now… and felt her fingers close around the cool hard wood. She whipped it up, the wood heating up with magic potential as it grazed his flesh… and she felt a strange, distant burning on her arm… then a far off shout… someone calling her name…

"Ryua!" Draco snapped hoarsley, shaking her hard. "Will you wake the hell up? You're getting dangerous!"

She snapped fully awake, saw Draco kneeling on her bed, silhouetted against the window. With a shock, Ryua realized her wand was pressed against his throat. She lowered it slowly. "Draco?"

"Yes, it's me. Bloody hell, Ryua, I pity the poor man you marry. You hexed me a second ago, and even fully asleep you manage to dig the tip of that thing into my neck…"

"Sorry… sorry. Really vivid dreams, I thought you were… someone else…"

Draco sat back on the bed, rubbing at his arm. "Man… just a little hint for a much longer life; never, ever curse him like that in real life. He'll kill you."

"Hmm? Oh, him. No, I'd hit him with something more incapacitating and less painful."

He looked up at her. "Err, who were you dreaming about then? If you don't mind…"

"Oh," Ryua said, sitting up and tucking her wand back under the pillow. "Zabini…"

"Bummer. Wishing you could forget him?"

"Wishing I killed him slower…"

He winced. "Remind me to never get on your bad side. Again."

"No problem. I have enough people to hate without you added to the list."

"So, you good now?"

She smiled, although he couldn't see it in the dark. "Except for the fact that you're kneeling on my foot."

"Oops. Sleep well now. And remember we only have two more days of holidays…" he said, walking back over to his own bed.

Ryua sighed and curled back up in her covers. _Good thing, I'm getting too antsy here. Oh, how in the world am I supposed to get back to sleep now?_ The image of her living room, splattered with bits of various material… going down that stupid, stupid alley… the feeling of the Dark Lord's cold, dry fingers and Zabini's rough, clammy ones… she shuddered, trying to think of something, anything else. Quidditch plays just dissolved in her mind, potions ingredients slipped away… her roving mind flicked over things, with an irritating tendency to drift back into darkness.

_Ugh! _She flipped over, hoping to switch thought tracks. Interestingly enough, it seemed to work. The dark alley creeping up on her mind turned to a blurred vision of the Hogwarts dungeons. Blurred as if she were looking through a dirty window, or maybe a piece of thin fabric… _Oh…_ Now, if she could just stay in that hallway, with Harry…

She relaxed her body and mind, concentrating on just that memory, remembering every bit of it, from the sound of his breathing when he repressed a laugh, the brush of his legs against hers as they walked, pressing back into him when they had to dodge a prefect who came around the corner too suddenly… Ryua started to drift, her mind relaxed for the first time since they left home, and began to dream of gentle hands, soft touches…

Author's Note: I've been having requests for having Harry back into the story, but it's awful hard when he's living secretly in Grimmauld Place, and she's living just as secretly in the Leaky Cauldron…

And to Harry Potter Freak 139, that all depends on your point of view. Severus is, as in the books, a spy for Dumbledore's side although he has a definate dark, mean streak. Ashley is one of those people who is more likely to just shut up and go along with someone if it means not getting cursed (Why make life difficult?). She's not going to betray her friends easily, though.


	27. School

Someday, I will own something of great value. This will not be Harry Potter, as J K Rowling already owns it.

School

Ryua and Draco were being extra careful trying to get back into Platform 9 ¾. Since they were both supposed to be off with a distant family member, which meant a witch or wizard, there was no reason for them to be coming in from the muggle side. Luckily, paying taxi drivers and giving directions to the train station weren't too complicated, although neither of them had ever had to get through the barrier before. "We could just ask," Ryua said.

"Oh, come on," Draco scoffed. "That's a muggle if I ever saw one. Do you know what would happen if we came up and asked for Platform 9 ¾?"

"Yeah, I guess you're right… So now what?"

"I have no idea." Ryua sat down on a bench and racked her thoughts for any tidbits she'd ever heard from any muggleborns or middle class wizards. "I know it's a barrier to keep out muggles, but it's not like we should have to pull out our wands and charm anything…"

"Naw, someone would have noticed that by now. I mean, how long has Hogwarts been around?" Draco sat down beside her, looking out over the crowd. "Wait! That's a Weasley!"

"What? Where?" Ryua stood back up, scanning the people.

"Over there… with a huge black dog. I think its Ron, the freakishly tall one."

"That would make sense… yes, it's them. Let's just back up a bit and follow them in." They stepped back behind a pillar, keeping an eye on them. "What're Potter and Granger doing there?"

"And isn't that Mad-Eye Moody?"

"Uh huh. Wonder whose the dog is?" Ryua asked, watching as they all stepped right through a section of wall. "Looks pretty simple."

"Yeah. We've only got five minutes though, let's go."

Once through the platform, they both made their way quietly through the crowds, carefully not attracting attention. Although they both knew it would have to happen eventually, they really didn't want to be asked about a lot of stuff just yet. "Okay… let's try and find someone who might have done our homework, write up what we missed. I'll have to get Arithmancy from Granger, I'll see you later." Ryua slid into an empty compartment as Draco walked down the train looking for Pansy.

She waited until she saw Ron's lanky frame go by and snagged him in. Naturally, Harry and Hermione followed, and smiled when they saw her. Ryua carefully avoided looking too closely at Harry, worried (rightfully so) that she'd probably go beet red if she made eye contact. "So, have a good Christmas, Ryua?" Ron asked.

She snorted. "About as good as it ever is. You?"

"Not bad," Hermione said, carefully.

_So, something did happen to drag them out of Hogwarts. Fine. They don't ask, I won't. I'm just glad they don't read the Prophet that closely. _"Hermione, could I have a copy of that Arithmancy assignment?"

"Sure. Why?" she asked as she pulled out the complicated charts.

"I lost mine."

"You? Lost your homework?" Ron asked.

Harry glanced back in, as he'd been looking out the window. "Really?"

"Yes." Ryua replied, pulling out a quill.

"Don't you usually write it down in like, five places?" Hermione asked, leafing through her various sheets of homework.

"Only two or three. And I lost my books, and all the assignment sheets to boot. So, I bought new books and tried to make it up. Transfiguration, Potions, and Care of Magical Creatures I got, screw the DADA and Charms, I'm already failing, but Arithmancy actually requires the assignment…"

"Well, you'd better just copy out mine then. And Ron, could she copy out your Charms work?"

"I guess. Why don't you let us copy out your work, 'Mione?" Ron whined, pulling out a slightly rumpled piece of parchment.

"Because Ryua actually does her homework given a choice, unlike you."

"Not Charms," Harry said quietly, grinning.

"I do so!" Ryua snapped, not quite smudging a line of numbers. "… well, maybe not that well… but I do it!"

There was silence in the compartment for about three seconds when Ron leaned forward. "Are you blushing?"

_Aargh!_ "No."

"You are so."

"I'm not, Weasley."

"You are so, Malfoy."

"Drop it, or I curse you."

"As if you would on the trai-urk!" Ron was rather rudely cut off by Ryua's wand digging into his throat, while she serenely continued writing with her other hand.

"I've had a rather… frustrating holiday, Ron. Don't push me, I'm really, really close to a breaking point." Ryua said in a dangerous whisper.

"Okay… okay. Yeesh, sorry." Ron leaned back again, although he kept smirking off and on when he thought she wasn't looking. Hermione set up a scribing charm for Ryua to copy out Ron's work, and Harry stared fixedly out the window, ignoring Ron's occasional nudges.

_Maybe I was a little hard on him. It's not his fault I had a bad holiday… But he had no reason to keep on me like that! _Ah, but you were actually blushing. _Shut up. That doesn't give him any reason to bug me. _So, you finally get friends and now they aren't allowed to treat you like one of the group. _Not about stuff like that. _See! You admit it! _I admit nothing._ Yes you did, you like him, you like Harry and you were blushing over it. _Shut up. Go away. You know, most little voices in people's heads don't have full-blown conversations with them. _You're the one holding the conversation…

Ryua turned a growl into a cough, and concentrated on writing out Hermione's chart, ignoring her and Ron chattering cheerfully about Christmas dinner. _Stupid little voice… may you drown in these long, dull lists of Arithmancy numbers…_ Which it appeared to do, as she was able to finish her homework and change into school robes by the time they got to Hogwarts.

She did leave to find Draco as they pulled into Hogwarts, just because she really had no excuse for riding in a carriage with the Gryffindors. The Thestrals were there, looking just as creepy as ever in the full daylight. _Oh, wait, the Thestrals…_ Draco had ground to a halt at the bottom of the ramp. Ryua slipped through the crowds and pushed him out of the queue. "What… what're those?"

"Thestrals," Ryua said, pushing him gently to an empty carriage. "Those things Hagrid showed us a few months back, remember?"

"Where did they come from?"

"They've always been there."

"No, no, they haven't. I've never seen them before."

Ryua sighed. "Draco, don't you pay attention in class? The only people who can see Thestrals are those who have seen death. So, keep quiet, or people are going to wonder just what we got up to this Christmas." To his credit, Draco managed to not stare at them too much on the way to the castle. He did, however, move as quickly as possible into the warm, welcoming Great Hall once they got there, Ryua following eagerly behind.

She was entirely too excited about supper; the Leaky Cauldron had decent food, but not the quality of Hogwarts. Cassie was thrilled to have someone else enthusiastic about food for a change, and together with Draco, they put away enough food for three times as many people. Ryua walked up to Hagrid before he left after supper and took back Parsyl. She'd been less and less inclined to bring her home lately, and Hagrid loved her anyways. _Good thing I left her here after all._

The next day looked likely to continue her good mood, with Transfiguration and double Potions all morning long. Luckily, McGonnagall seemed to not mind the slightly off-topic paper Ryua had written. _Not my fault I didn't remember the actual question and had to make it up… Ah, it's well researched, good enough._

When she reached the dungeons for Potions, however, she got an odd little lurch. _Where am I supposed to sit?_ She didn't want to act like Pansy; hanging off Draco's arm like some desperate little cat in heat. But, she didn't want to snub her friends either… And then, fate decided for her as Draco sat between Crabbe and Goyle, leaving her just the seats on the Gryffindor side. _Oookay…_

It was much easier to deal with Harry when she had the role of arrogant Pureblood Slytherin to play. She acted thoroughly tired of having to help him through what should be a little baby potion, blah, blah, blah, although she really enjoyed the banter they got to keep up. And as long as she kept getting the better word in, Snape didn't interfere. "Honestly, Potter, _Weasley's_ potion looks better than yours. Why do you always seem to have so much trouble?"

"Maybe it's the instructions." Harry grunted, hiding a grin behind a jar of pickled kelp.

"My instructions are perfectly clear. You just appear to be too incompetent to comprehend them."

"Incompetent? Just wait till I get you on the quidditch pitch, Malfoy."

"You wish. I could beat you with my eyes closed. And Potter, the kelp is supposed to be dried, not pickled."

"You could have told me earlier… except that you want me to make a fool of myself, right?" Harry said, gratefully exchanging the jar for a different one.

"Maybe. Not that it requires too much effort." And so it continued for the entire class, insults going back and forth, Ryua making sure he at least got a passing grade while Harry just concentrated on getting a passing grade. Her own potion was simmering gently in her own cauldron, with enough left over to at least dilute some of the worst mistakes to a low pass. Neville and Seamus took the extra today, although she privately thought Neville's was beyond help.

At the end of the class, beakers all bottled up and on his desk, Ryua was just about to pick up her books and leave when Harry tripped over one of Ron's legs (which appeared to have grown another inch or two), sending three bags flying. "Ouch, watch where you're going mate," Ron said, rubbing his ankle.

"Your feet were under my chair. How was I supposed to know they were under my chair?"

"They grew. I don't know how long they are anymore."

"Potter! Weasley!" came Snape's voice from the desk at the front. "Stay and clean up that mess!"

Ron picked up his empty bag, dropped his tattered quills and half empty inkbottle into it, and pushed in his chair. "Sometimes it's good to be poor and own nothing after all!" he whispered as he leaned over to pick up his one scroll of parchment. "See you later, Harry," he said in a normal tone.

"Yes, bye Harry," Hermione said, "See you at lunch!"

Harry looked over at Ryua hopefully as they took off. In fact, everyone took off, not wanting to be the last one in a room with an angry Snape. "As if I'd let you touch my books, Potter," she snarled, kneeling down and picking up her own stuff. "Wonderful friends, leaving you alone to clean up with Snape…" she said quietly.

"Yeah. So… um… I… yeah."

_What an odd picture. Huddled behind the desk, Snape back in his office, no one else in the room… nnnng…bad little voice with evil ideas…_ "So… have a good Christmas?" _Ugh, how lame can you get…_

"Yeah… yeah. You?"

"Yeah." Both of them had picked up their books by now, so Ryua just sat all the way down with a sigh. "This is stupid."

"Yeah. Man, I have to stop saying that…" Harry looped his bag over a chair and sat down too. "So, about… you know…"

"Yeah, I know." Ryua smiled. _Couldn't stop thinking about it, more like…_

"I… I'm sorry about it, I really should have asked first… or something… I didn't mean to offend you, or whatever."

"Wha…" _Don't you dare say you regret it. Don't you dare, don't you dare don't you dare…_

"You're probably mad at me, I shouldn't have done it… I'm lucky you didn't curse me right then and there…"

"Wha… Harry, slow down, okay? What gave you that idea?"

"Um… well…"

"She told you." Ryua said, a wave of fury coming up way, way to easily. "After she swore she'd never tell…"

"No! No, we kind of dug it out. She tried really hard not to say anything, actually. I just came back looking kind of, well…"

"Yeah…"

"Right. And Ron guessed what had happened, and Hermione jumped and started checking me for curses, and I eventually wormed it out… I'm really sorry."

"Not your fault." Ryua crossed her arms, sitting with her knees tucked up to her chest. _Not exactly the direction I wanted the conversation to go…_

"I know. But I'm sorry for just… doing that to you, no questions asked. I shouldn't have. Maybe we shouldn't… maybe we should just pretend it didn't happen."

_No… _"Is… is that what you want? Really?"

"I…"

"What? You get me all… all emotional, and the moment you find out… find out I'm _spoiled goods_, that's it? You want to pretend it didn't happen?" Ryua had thought she was good with pain, could ignore just about anything… _How could something so small get me so… worked up? I'm so close to _killing_ him…_

"No! No, that's not it at all! Really, I just thought you were mad at me…"

"No. Now, I'm mad at you." Ryua was concentrating very, very hard on keeping her hand away from her wand and her magic in check. "For… for the first time I can remember, I actually liked someone touching me. I couldn't stop thinking about it all Christmas… even when it was really, really the last thing that should have been on my mind. And now I get here, I finally get a chance to talk to you, and I discover you'd rather it never happened…" _Damn! Why can't I shut up?_

"You… Wait, no, I don't mean that, honest! Listen… could we just… er, start the conversation over? This really didn't come out how I wanted it to…" He smiled nervously, running his fingers through his hair. "Okay, let's try this again. I apologize for kissing you without permission. I should have asked you first. And… I'm not saying I wish it never happened."

"Oh." Ryua stared at her feet for a moment. "Well then," she said brightly, "Thanks for the help with picking up my books, Harry, you'd best be getting off to lunch."

"Huh?" Harry blinked bemusedly as she hauled him to his feet.

"Lunch. You know, the meal after breakfast and before supper? Hermione and Ron will be waiting."

"Okay…" Halfway out the door, he stopped and turned around. "So, you're not mad at me?"

For a moment, Ryua seriously considered making him squirm for a few days. But, he was really, really good at the confused, sad puppy eyes. So instead, she walked up to him, kissed him, turned away so he wouldn't see her blush, and said, "No, I guess not. Now go on, people are going to start talking."

She was just on her way back to her bag, still sitting on the floor, when she heard a voice come out of nowhere. "You should be more careful."

Ryua, being Ryua, spun around and pointed her wand at throat level into the shadows in the corner. "Oh… um, hi Professor…" she said, pocketing her wand as Snape stepped into the light.

"Although I would have preferred nearly anyone else on the face of the earth as a partner for you, I'm not about to ruin it. However, I will strongly caution you in the direction of secrecy. While I am simply disgusted by your taste, there are many who would think you both deserve to die for it."

"Ohhhh, right…" Ryua said, clapping a hand to her forehead. "I am going to be in so much trouble…"

"Only if anyone finds out. I'm sure I can trust you to avoid that issue." He was just about to leave when he turned back around, a pained expression on his face. "Potter? Are you absolutely positive it had to be Potter?"

Ryua giggled and ducked her head, pretending to pick up her already picked up books. Snape made a rather loud noise of disgust and left, giving her some time to compose herself before she went up to lunch. _He likes me, he likes me…_ _Oh, I am so pathetic. Smarten up!_

…_he likes me…_

Author's Note: Wow, new reviewer… that's two in two chapters, I must be getting good! anss123, yes, I'm just finishing off the fifth book, and then I have to make it all up on my own. I know it's not the most original way to write a fan fiction, but it's perfect if you've never written one before. So just hang in there until summer break, and then it'll be all made up out of my own head. (shudder So much work!)

Cool, thanks Kerry Bo Berry, it's good to know someone thinks I don't exist entirely for your pleasure. Although I do like to please my reviewers, so if anyone has anything they want in the story, let me know. This is also because I'm running into some serious gaps in my future plot...

And Harry Potter Freak 139, and all the rest of you reading this and not reviewing, you should **always** review. You'd be surprised how nice it is just to know someone read the chapter. If I had unlimited money and credit cards, I might pay for the advanced support, or whatever this site calls it. This would give me a hit count, but since I don't, the only way I know if any of you are even still alive is with a review.

So, that's it for now, thanks for all the reviews, those of you who've done it... hopefully with the better chapters, I'll get more feedback... now all I have to do is write good chapters!

And she's finally back at school… I am going to have so much fun!


	28. February

Someday, I will own something of great value. This will not be Harry Potter, as J K Rowling already owns it.

February

Harry picked himself up off of Snape's floor for what seemed like the billionth time. It was already his third day of occlumency, and he still couldn't figure out what he was really supposed to do. Every day, his head hurt more and more, and he never made any progress. "Sir, I really don't think that we're going to get anything done tonight. If I could leave now?"

"I am the teacher, last time I checked, Potter. I will say when you can go. Again."

Harry sighed, and tried to clear his mind. He wasn't exactly a non-emotional type, and he was a bit undisciplined from time to time… So clearing his head of all thoughts and emotions didn't work very well. And as usual, Snape set the spell before he was fully ready, so images started flashing. A scene of Dudley chasing him at the head of a pack of boys, Marge's dog Ripper keeping him in a tree until nightfall, how pathetically happy and trusting he was when Hagrid came to haul him out of the muggle world… and then walking down the dungeons to the Slytherin Common Room, under a cloak, seeing Ryua's face, full of suppressed laughter turning around… _No. That's not something I want you to see, that's private… _

When Harry opened his eyes, he was still standing, for a change, and Snape was rubbing his arm. "Did you mean to produce a stinging hex, Potter?"

"I, ah… no."

"I see."

"So, I did it, does that mean I can go now?"

Snape sneered. "I would not say that you had done it. You have made progress, in the manner of an eagle gliding a foot before plummeting miserably to the ground. And I have assignments to mark this evening, so I want you out of my sight."

With a sigh of relief, Harry turned around and walked to the door. He was just about to open the door when Snape whispered something and the door sealed itself with a silencing charm. Harry spun around, hand going to his wand, but Snape raised a hand. "I just wished to say something before you go. Something that should not be overheard."

"Alright." Harry crossed his arms and settled back onto one leg.

"Potter, I have to say that I am absolutely disgusted by you."

"The attraction's mutual."

Snape's eyes flashed, and his voice got dangerous. "I would rather enjoy a legitimate reason to expel you, Potter, so I would love it if you kept talking…" Harry said nothing, although he looked sullenly at his feet. "I want to tell you that I could wish Ryua had picked a different person. Almost any person, as a matter of fact. But, for whatever reason, she actually seems to like you."

Harry's head had shot up at the mention of Ryua's name, and the question was plain on his face. "How did I know? Firstly, I saw Ryua emerge from an invisibility cloak outside the common rooms. And, the two of you were slightly less than cautious in my classroom a few days ago. So, I would like to tell you to be much, much more secretive about this. I'm sure Granger and Weasley already know, but I would not advise telling anyone else. Too many people involved in a secret fairly guarantees its escape." For a split second, Snape's face looked almost tender. "Ryua is like a daughter to me, Potter, more so than to her own family. I know when she's scared, troubled, exhausted, in pain… and happy. I don't see that in her nearly enough, Potter. If it takes welcoming you with open arms to make her happy… well I'll just have to tolerate you. But I warn you, if you hurt her, you should wish that her father finds you first. He's rash enough to kill you. The Dark Lord, myself, or heaven forbid Ryua, would make you suffer much, much more than you could possibly imagine."

Harry swallowed, and when he heard the spell on the door dissipate, he left before Snape could say anything else. _Yeesh, and I thought the Weasleys were overprotective…_

"I'm sorry he was so hard on you," Ryua said as she shelved the last of the books in the Room of Requirements. Hermione and Ron had stuck around until the last of the people had gone to their common rooms, and then left to do patrol, leaving Ryua and Harry to clean up.

"Ah, I'm still in one piece. At least he yelled at me for a legitimate reason this time…"

"Hah. I can take care of myself."

Harry smiled, tossing some pillows into a corner. "Actually, he did say that if I did anything to make you mad, I'd better die before you caught up with me."

Ryua chuckled. "Well… I maybe have a bit of a temper…"

"Guess I shouldn't make you mad then…"

"Probably not. I don't think you will, though."

"Really? That's good. Er, why not? Just so I know what I should keep doing…"

"Well… You are kinda cute…" This time it was Harry who blushed, a situation which Ryua liked much more. "Hey, I just had a thought!"

"Really?" Harry seemed a bit bemused by her fast topic switch. "What?"

"Why are we cleaning up after DA meetings?"

"What? Why not?"

"It's the Room of Requirements. When we come in next time, it'll be exactly as we require it, clean and ready for the lesson. So, why bother cleaning it if it's just done magically?"

Harry looked over at her, mouth slightly open. "You know… I never thought of that."

"Do you think anyone else has?"

"Doubt it, Ron and Hermione have been the only other ones cleaning it… So, I guess we don't really have to stick around late than…"

"Hey, I never said that! I don't mind spending time out of my common room… with you…"

"So, you're saying we should lie about not needing to clean up after our supposed-to-be-non-existent meetings just to spend time together?"

She winced. "Okay, maybe that sounds a little bad…"

Harry smiled. "Oh, I don't know. We just don't have to tell anyone that we aren't necessarily cleaning…"

Ryua had a little jolt of… she didn't know what, but her stomach did a pleasant little flip-flop. "Well, we've already spent almost ten minutes cleaning…"

"Okay… So can I have a goodnight kiss then?" Harry smiled hopefully.

"Only if you walk me down to the dungeons. Pansy's on patrol tonight, but Draco's doing a makeup paper so she's bored and mean. Don't want me to get caught and stuck in detention again, do you?" Ryua asked, poking him in the chest.

Five minutes later, they were down at the entrance to the Slytherin common room. "Consider yourself escorted," Harry whispered in her ear.

Ryua shivered; it tickled pleasantly. "Okay then…" She turned around, careful not to slide the cloak off by accident, and reached her hand back around his neck. They were nearly the same height, so she didn't have to yank his head down a foot like some girls. Under an invisibility cloak, neither of them felt like there were eyes boring into their backs, so Ryua moved very slowly, enjoying every bit of it. The feeling of his warm breath on her skin, a light brush of their lips, which got gently firmer. Her other hand reached up into his hair, her fingers working through his already disorderly, soft hair.

She pulled back for a breath, but didn't get far before he kissed her back. His hands slid around her waist, leaving goose bumps in their wake. Ryua was starting to melt, losing herself in the kiss, feeling like she was floating away somewhere. Apparently, Harry was having similar sensations, as he lost his balance and staggered sideways into the wall. "Oops," he whispered, "Got a little dizzy…"

Ryua stifled a chuckle and whispered back, "Yeah… well, goodnight." She unwound his hands, which were still around her waist, gave him one last kiss, and ducked out of the cloak before he could pull her back. Luckily, the only people in the common room were three first years on a mission to stay up all night long (one was already nodding off) so she got to bed without any troubles.

In the Gryffindor tower, Hermione and Ron were waiting up for Harry to come back. "Honestly, how long does it take to clean up that room?" Ron asked, poking a bobble on an elf hat.

Hermione, who was making more bobbled elf hats, said, "Well, he'll be coming up from the dungeons too, I'm sure…"

"Oh, right. So… d'you think she's killed him yet?"

"Of course not! She likes him…" A moment later, her face clouded with worry. "He is taking a while though…"

"Relax, he'll be fine. You're dropping stitches, by the way…"

"Since when do you know anything about knitting?"

Ron grimaced, tossing the hat onto another chair. "You know my mother. It's impossible to live in that house without learning the basics of knitting, cooking, cleaning, charming…"

"I suppose." Just then the portrait opened, and Harry appeared from under his cloak, a slightly goofy grin on his face. "Oh, there you are Harry!"

"So, how'd it go, mate?" Ron ducked a pair of socks that Hermione threw at him and grinned evilly up at Harry.

"None of your business. And how do you know anything 'went' anyway?"

"Because of the look on your face. You look like Hagrid talking about baby Norbert…"

For a moment, Harry's expression turned to one of disgusted embarrassment. It slipped back into dreamy thoughts a moment later though. "Well… I did kind of fall into a wall…"

Ron burst out laughing, and looked over in amazement when even Hermione laughed. "Ohhh, Harry, you poor innocent child. Falling into walls from a goodnight kiss…"

"As if you've had any experience, Hermione," Ron said, throwing a hat at her.

"More than you, Ronald!"

"Doesn't take much…" Harry said quietly.

Ron looked over in horrified surprise. "Harry… you're supposed to be on my side!"

"Sorry, couldn't resist."

"I think that girl's bringing out the Slytherin in you. She's a bad influence."

"Oh, Ron, don't be foolish. That's ridiculous." Hermione said, neatly stacking the hats on the table. "I don't think Slytherin-ness is transmittable. Only people meant to be in Slytherin act like Slytherins."

"Well, then… maybe Harry's a Slytherin in disguise! And he's fooled us all, being the good little hero all these years…"

For a moment, Harry teetered between worry and amusement. However, he was in too good of a mood to worry, so… "Yep."

" 'Yep' what?"

"I was supposed to be in Slytherin." Ron kind of gaped like a landed fish, and Hermione actually dropped one of her hats into the fireplace. "Cool, huh?"

"Er… I guess so…"

"No, I chose Gryffindor, you see. The hat thought I could fit in Slytherin nicely, except that I didn't want to go."

"Oh. Well, I guess that makes you doubly Gryffindor then." Hermione said, trying to fish her hat out of the fire, and giving it up as a lost cause. "Oh, I'm going to bed. Goodnight!"

"Yeah, goodni-ght," Ron called, interrupted halfway through by a loud yawn. "Sounds like a good idea, actually… Er, Harry, you aren't going to go mad and kill us all during the night, are you?"

"Only if you really bug me." Harry smiled as Ron made a sort of choking laugh, gesturing Harry to go first.

Author's Note: Whoa. Thanks goes out to Rohan Bernett for the most uplifting, sweet review I've ever had. I was happy for days!


	29. Hogsmeade

Someday, I will own something of great value. This will not be Harry Potter, as J K Rowling already owns it.

Hogsmeade

"So, are you going to Hogsmeade?" Hermione asked during Arithmancy two days later.

"Yes, of course. You think I'd stay here with Umbridge for company?"

"That's not what I meant. Are you going with him?"

"With… oh." Ryua paused, looking down at her paper. "I… I guess I should, eh?"

"Maybe. I mean, most people do… but you're trying not to brandish this about right?"

"Yeah. Maybe we should just meet up there, or I could go with you, and meet Harry there…"

"Well… I actually did want Harry to do something… so that would work, sure. We're supposed to get some information for Arithmancy anyway, and we'll probably get extra points for doing it in Hogsmeade."

"Sounds good then. Let Harry know, and I'll meet you in the Great Hall at ten."

Ryua was looking very forward to the Hogsmeade visit before long. It was incredibly difficult to find a time when both she and Harry could go anywhere without arousing suspicions. Between the frequent quidditch matches, homework, and classes, neither of them seemed to have a common night off. And the DA meetings were having troubles getting scheduled for the same reasons. So by Friday night, she was going slightly mad.

Saturday morning dawned (at least she assumed it did, it was hard to tell in the dungeons) and as usual, Ryua was up well before everyone else. She had a shower, to clean off any dirt from the quidditch practice she'd missed last night, and sorted through her clothes, looking for something warm. Logically speaking, Ryua knew that many places got very, very cold in the winter, places like Canada or Sweden where temperatures of 40 degrees below the freezing point weren't at all uncommon. However, Britain's milder winters were still cold enough for her, and she had a multitude of warm wool and fleece clothes. A thick, light blue sweater, warm, soft navy blue pants, and a fur-lined cloak overtop went on today.

Once, Lucius had considered sending them to Durmstrang, simply because of the higher Dark Arts courses. Luckily, Narcissa had convinced him not to. Ryua would have probably frozen solid by now, even with their thick fur cloaks. And anyways, hers was much nicer than the school standard, and she doubted it would feel as warm on a mountain somewhere inland.

She did some homework, whiling away the time until they were supposed to eat, then meet for Hogsmeade. Luckily, Cassie got up not too much later, and they played a few rounds of wizard chess, as the DADA homework was just boring her to tears. They chatted brightly about quidditch and Hogsmeade, and then got too hungry and went upstairs for breakfast.

After eight pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon, and a handful of grapes Cassie insisted she eat to prevent scurvy, Ryua walked over to where Hermione was going through her Arithmancy homework. "Are you honestly going to pack all that with you?"

"Of course, we're supposed to do homework."

"But, all we should need is the actual assignment sheet, right? And a quill to write some stuff down with. We could do the bookwork once we get back, and not have to carry those textbooks…"

Hermione looked both scandalized and hopeful all at once. "Well… we should take them along just in case…"

"Hermione, listen to me. We're going to Hogsmeade. This is supposed to be fun. Hauling textbooks around is not fun. So, we're leaving the textbooks here, and we'll go have fun. Without the textbooks."

"Ohhh, fine. I'll leave them in the library on our way out."

"That's my girl. You have to learn to relax more. At this rate, you'll look as old as McGonnagall before you're twenty."

"I would not! And she looks great."

"Yes, for someone who's well over sixty. When we're all sixty, we can hope we'll look so good. Until then, we want to not look like that, understand?"

"Fine, fine…" Hermione grinned as the students started to file out. Harry and Ron were off to Zonko's or something with Fred, George, and Lee. Ryua, with the usual Malfoy arrogance, kept their carriage empty. Mostly, she just glared at anyone who looked like they were going to open the door. "You know, someone else could sit here…"

"Eh, I guess. But, apart from the fact that we can talk easier alone, I just don't want anyone to open that door."

"You're cold? With that much warm clothing?"

"I'm always cold. I don't know why, but I find it really, really hard to stay warm jus about everywhere."

"Just about? Where aren't you cold then?"

"The Dominican, by the end of a really long, hot shower, sometimes the kitchens…"

"Wherever Harry happens to be…"

"… well, maybe… Why are guys so warm?"

"It's like, the most basic attraction. It's the reason we snuggled up to them in the caveman days, because they're warm."

"Oh, good. I thought I was just weird. I mean, it seems kind of strange to like someone just because they make you warm…"

Hermione looked out the window at the snowy landscape going by. "No, I don't think so. Warmth is an important part of comfort, and comfort is one of the main reasons for liking someone. Actually, being comfortable can make you feel warm too, so maybe that's part of it. I don't mean to be rude, but you don't seem comfortable with a lot of people."

"No… I never really have been. It's kind of a new thing, I'm not very good at it yet."

"Well, the only way to get better is to practice. I'm sure Harry wouldn't object to being a guinea pig…"

Ryua did her best to act offended, but the effect was spoiled by the errant grin that managed to slip through. And the stifled giggle, which set off Hermione, which made Ryua giggle back…

By the time they'd reached Hogsmeade, they'd managed to calm back down again, although they were both prone to laughter from strange things. Hermione did force them to pick up some weather information for Arithmancy, but other than that, the two of them did absolutely nothing useful all day.

"Are you sure your Father won't mind us buying all this stuff?"

"Mind? Of course he'll mind, that's the idea. Until he shuts me out of the family account, I plan to get every benefit to being a Malfoy. Ooooh! Did you know they could make ink this color? And this one?"

"No… which one are you going to get?"

"Both, of course. So… when did you say we were supposed to be at the Three Broomsticks?"

"Hmm? Oh! Um, like two minutes, sorry…"

"S'okay, as long as we aren't late. Let's charge this stuff and go."

At the pub, Hermione led the way to a table for five, and ordered them both huge hot chocolates. "And now we wait."

"Wait? When did you tell them to meet us?"

"Oh, just Harry's coming, Ron's staying with his brothers. But, he's not coming for another fifteen minutes or so."

"So why are we here now?"

"We're waiting for Rita Skeeter."

Ryua looked up from searching for the cherry that she knew had to be hiding in the whipped cream. "Skeeter? That nasty little rat that wrote so much garbage for the Prophet last year?"

"Yes. And we're waiting for Luna Lovegood too."

"Lovegood? Isn't her dad the owner of the Quibbler?"

"Yes. Since the Prophet won't publish the truth, we'll get the Quibbler to, under Skeeter's oh-so-venerable name."

"I see. That's good. I guess it's been getting worse for Harry, everyone thinks he's a nutter." Ryua laughed and took a sip of her hot chocolate. "It's weird. In my House, where everyone hates him, no one thinks he's insane or lying. Too bad he wasn't in Slytherin…"

"You want to know something weird? The hat tried to put him there. Might have gone for it too, if your brother hadn't been so…"

"Malfoyish?"

"Yeah. Bizarre, eh?"

"No kidding. Hey, there she is." Ryua pointed to the door with her spoon. Sure enough, Rita Skeeter stood there, looking around disdainfully. She walked over to their table with a rather ugly expression on her face.

"Well, little miss perfect, I'm here. Now, what do you want?"

"Have a seat, Rita. The others will be here soon."

She sniffed, and bent down to sit down, leaping up in surprise a moment later. Luna Lovegood was in the chair, calmly stirring a strawberry lemonade. "When did you get there?" she snapped.

"Oh, just a second ago. Hello, Hermione, Ryua…"

"Er, hi. How did you do that?" Ryua asked.

"Do what?"

"How did you get here without… ah, never mind."

Rita sat down, and ordered a firewhisky. Harry arrived moments later, and from the look on his face, Hermione hadn't told him what to expect at all. "Have a seat, Harry," she said, gesturing to the last chair.

"Alright, we're all here, Granger. Do you plan to tell us why?" Rita asked, taking a swig of her firewhisky.

"Rita, you're going to take an interview. Luna's father is going to publish it."

"Harry's interview? Well why didn't you say so? I can just see it now; 'Dumbledore's protégé, nutty as ever…'"

"No, Rita. You're going to publish the truth, exactly as Harry says it."

"The Prophet will never print that story, you stupid little girl."

"I know that," she said serenely. "That's why Luna's here, if you'll think a moment. Her father owns the Quibbler."

"The Quibbler? You've got to be kidding me."

"No. People will be looking for an alternate story, because the one the Prophet's put out leaves some pretty gaping holes. Even if it's in an… alternate sort of newspaper, people will want to read it."

"So, how much am I getting paid for this?"

"Well, usually Daddy runs the articles for free," Luna said, spinning her straw around and around her glass.

"Free? You expect me to do this for free?"

"Of course. Or I'll spill the beans about you." Hermione said calmly.

"If you do, you still won't get your story. I want to get paid for this."

"I told you, my Daddy doesn't pay his journalists."

"No, he doesn't," Ryua said, "But I do. You write this story, and I'll add a side story of my own, under anonymity, and pay you three hundred for the lot."

It was obvious Rita was used to much more, but it was also obvious she was running very low on cash. "Fine. Harry, you first, dear." She pulled out an acid green quill, balanced it on the paper, and looked up at Harry. Ryua listened carefully, as it was the first time she'd heard the entire story start to finish. By the end of it, only Rita was wincing at the frequent repetitions of Voldemort, although Ryua did notice that the quill censored it out.

When he stopped talking, Ryua leaned forward. _Oh, man, I can't believe I'm actually doing this. Someone's going to kill me over this…_ "Now, Rita, I'm sure you read the Daily Prophet. I doubt you read the obituaries, however, so I'll fill you in on a little background. This summer, a very short paragraph was run on a pureblood witch, tragically killed by a hippogriff. I was there, and it was no hippogriff. It was the middle of the night, and she and her husband, a high-ranking Death Eater, had a check-up visit from Lord Voldemort." She forced herself to say it, and squashed any shudder that even thought about escaping. "Now, they had children, teenagers, to be precise; old enough to have their first… evaluation, you could say. So, they were summoned downstairs, and met the Dark Lord, the one person in the world their father would bow to. One of them was smart, kept his mouth shut and his attitude respectful. The other couldn't swallow her pride, and really pissed him off.

"Now, I'm pretty sure you haven't ever been tortured by Voldemort, and I hope for your sake that you never do. The mother was forced to stand there, and watch him curse her daughter, over and over. She couldn't stand it, and attacked her husband, using his wand to burn the Dark Lord off of her daughter. The deep lacerations across her body, and the broken ribs and back? Those were from shielding her children when part of the room exploded from his wrath, not talons.

"Her daughter… her daughter wanted her to be remembered as a woman who all her life had been brought down, who had had every bit of her power taken away, but at the end had the strength to rebel against the worst of enemies, to stand up. And she gave her children the chance to live free for a few more years."

The room was silent when she stopped talking. Ryua took a drink of hot chocolate, swore, cursed it with a fire charm, and took a much-improved warm sip. Rita sat there, vaguely petting her quill. Apparently it hadn't handled so much real, awful information in one sitting before, and it was trembling slightly. "And should I ascribe a name to this mysterious woman?"

"I suppose you should, yes. Narcissa Black Malfoy. And I have something to go do. Give this note to any Gringotts goblin, and they'll give you the gold." Ryua wrote a short notice telling Gringotts to give Rita Skeeter the proper amount of Galleons, left a tip for Madam Rosmerta and left.

Ryua wandered around Hogsmeade, not really paying attention to where she was going, just away from people. "I can't believe I just did that," she muttered, turning onto the road to the Shrieking Shack. "I'm going to get killed over this…" Just then she heard footsteps behind her in the snow. She bit down some rather nasty words, and concentrated on walking just a little slower than before, slipping her wand out of her pocket._ Didn't expect to get killed _this_ quickly…_

As the steps got within a few feet, she whirled around and lunged at her pursuer, knocking him into the snow with her wand dug into his throat. She looked up from a neck wrapped in a Gryffindor scarf into startled green eyes and groaned. "Oh, Harry, don't sneak up on me like that, I was ready to kill you!"

"Yeah, I kinda noticed… thanks for waiting a split second though."

"Heh. Sorry… reflex action. So, what are you doing out this far?"

"Following you."

"Why?"

"I'll tell you if you let me up. I've got snow melting into my clothes…"

"Oh, sorry…" she got up, brushing snow off her sleeves.

Harry pushed himself out of the bank with a little shudder. "So, why didn't you tell us that's what happened over Christmas?"

"I… I don't know. It's not the kind of story you share, you know; 'I got a new broom for Christmas, what about you?' 'Oh, I got tortured and orphaned, cool, huh?'"

"Okay, I guess it's a little unusual." They walked along the road, turning off onto some trails, where they were less likely to be seen. "But still, we're your friends, you can tell us this sort of thing. I mean, family stuff's huge."

"Can't imagine why." Ryua said bitterly, rubbing the quill scars on her palm. She then looked up, suddenly contrite. "Oh, I'm sorry…"

"No, don't worry. If the rest of your family is like Draco…"

"He's the best of the lot…"

Harry winced, putting a comforting arm around her shoulders. "And I thought the Dursleys were bad. I can stand neglect, starvation, living in a cupboard…"

"A cupboard?"

"Yeah, the cupboard under the stairs. I lived there until I turned eleven and the wizarding world started caring that I existed again. When I did something really bad, like magicking myself on top of the school roof, or setting a boa constrictor on my cousin, they'd lock me in there for weeks, no food."

"No wonder you're so thin. Strange, how both of us can have such awful home lives, and almost nothing the same about them… Your arm's still over my shoulders, by the way."

"Do you mind?"

Ryua smiled. "No, not really. You're so nice and warm." Without actually meaning to, she'd managed to snuggle right into his side, all the better to soak up that lovely warmth. "You know, I've got one thing better in my home life."

"Hmm?"

"I get to curse my problems. You have to just take it."

"Heh, yeah, I'm supposed to anyway. I blew up one of my aunts once… and I did charm some dementors over the summer."

"You blew up an aunt?"

"Yeah. She was making cracks about breeding dogs and my mother… and I kinda lost it. Luckily, that was the same year Sirius escaped, so Fudge was so happy to see me alive after I ran away that he didn't bother to even reprimand me."

"Nice. Fame works just as well as a rich bank account, I see."

"Yeah. Until someone like Skeeter gets a hold on you and makes your life a living hell…"

"If it's any consolation, the entire Slytherin house believes you're perfectly sane. Well, except for the whole part about actually rebelling against the Dark Lord anyway."

"Just what I always wanted. My worst enemies are the ones who trust my mental state."

Author's Note: Umm, sorry for the long wait. I've been running nonstop for two weeks now, and working some evenings, which kills the internet access, and for that matter, the access to my computer at home to write the stuff.

Or draw...

I have an artist account at www . mediaminer . org. Go to fanart, and search in Harry Potter for Artist Name: Ryua. I love it when people leave reviews there too...


	30. End of Quidditch

Someday, I will own something of great value. This will not be Harry Potter, as J K Rowling already owns it.

End of Quidditch

"Get off!" Ryua screeched, plummeting down into a knot of green and yellow robes. Earlier that week, Goyle had gone a little overboard with the bludger during practice, and given Cassie such a crack over the head that Madam Pomfery had grounded her. Naturally, this was two days before their match against Ravenclaw, so Ryua had had a fair bit of juggling to do. Cassie, still slightly cross-eyed, was down in the stands, cheering wildly while Professor Snape tried to force her to hold still. As Ryua sliced through the knot of Hufflepuffs mobbing Ashley, she glanced back up at the Slytherin hoops, smiling at the small, vibrating figure hovering there.

As soon as Cassie had gone to the hospital wing, Ryua had ran down to the dungeons and hauled Josh Treevale off of his homework. By the end of the practice, Ryua had decided he was nowhere near Cassie's speed. He could catch and throw incredibly well, however, so she stuck him in front of the hoops and warned him not to let anything through. He hadn't, for the next six hours of practice against everything they could throw at him, so Ryua left him there. This meant that she, Ashley, and Pucey made up the chasers, and Ryua was enjoying herself quite a bit.

She heard Ashley's shout, and rolled over just in time to catch the quaffle. She flipped 180 and headed for the Hufflepuff posts, adrenaline pumping. One of the other chasers, on a Cleansweep, might have been standing still, for all the chance she had of intercepting her. One bludger was an easy dodge, and although the second caught her leg and spun her into a full barrel roll, she ignored the stab of pain and fired the quaffle through.

"Seventy- zero, for Slytherin!" Lee Jordan called out, flipping the scoreboard to the new count. Ryua shook out her leg, decided it wasn't broken, and took off back to her end. She felt incredibly alive, the wind in her face, whipping her robes back like some fantastic falcon's wings, the yells and screams from the crowd below, the look of elation on her teammates' faces.

"You could name that shot… Like, the Malfoy Corkscrew of Death!" Pucey said clapping her on the shoulder as she flew past him and swung into a defense formation.

"You should grow up." Ashley said, gliding up on his other side. She was grinning away though, and Pucey just laughed.

Ryua smiled, glancing up at the seekers circling the field high above. "Let's get 160 points ahead, and forget about needing him to win the match!"

"Okay!" All three of them were downright giddy, nearly as excited as Josh back at the posts. He'd already made three spectacular saves, and ambushed two more chasers before they got within range, and was becoming a rapid crowd favorite. "I can't believe this is the last match…"

"Yeah, now we just get to tease the Gryffindors fighting Ravenclaw…" Ryua said."

"Poor Cassie, she must be going nuts down there. She'll have my place next year, eh?" Pucey asked. Ryua would have answered, but had to intercept a pass, dodge a bludger, pass the quaffle before she ran headlong into a wall of yellow players, and then cheer Ashley as she got another goal.

"Yeah, she will. And Josh is staying as keeper, he's incredible."

"Which frees you up to have way too much fun with me and Cassie up here, eh?" Ashley said, gliding back into position.

"Better believe it!" Ryua said diving forward and smacking the quaffle out of someone's arm into Pucey's waiting hands, who promptly shot upwards into the sun, and put an excellent shot past the blinded keeper.

"Do you think we ought to take it easier on them?" he asked as he pulled back into formation, leaning back with his arms behind his head like he was reclining on a lawn chair.

"Nah. Bad enough that they're losing terribly, it'd be worse to play with them and still beat them." Ryua said, leaning forward and resting her chin on the front of her broom. She dropped low this time, letting Ashley and Pucey sandwich the poor chaser, and neatly catching the quaffle. Crabbe let fly with one of the Bludgers and took another chaser, leaving her a clear path to the hoops.

At 150 points, Draco plummeted down, through one of Josh's hoops, and caught the snitch, which had been hovering under the keeper's broomtail. "Aww… almost got there…" Ashley said, then laughed wildly and shot down to congratulate Draco. The rest of the team followed, creating a large, loud mass of giddy players sinking down to earth.

Cassie came thundering down the stairs to throw herself on top, laughing and shrieking as much as any of them. Snape came down and gently dragged her off, holding her still, which was probably a good thing. She appeared to be listing sideways a bit; apparently her coordination was still a bit off.

Pansy, wisely, stayed well clear of them until well into the celebration party, and even then only stayed on the side of Draco farthest from Ryua. "Hah HAH! We've got them, we've got them for sure!" Cassie was saying, slapping at Josh and Pucey who were trying to keep her sitting upright.

"Yeah, Gryffindor'll have to win by, like, three hundred odd points to pass us now. Not bloody likely eh?" Draco said, grabbing a chocolate cookie off of a huge tray. The team had raided the kitchens, forbidden homework inside the common room for the evening, and started in on a good, loud party. That had been three hours ago. They'd taken a quick break for supper, and gone back to the party, after Ryua made a detour to the Three Broomsticks to load up on Butterbeer.

Snape did come and shut them down around midnight, force-feeding Cassie a sleeping draught so she'd actually relax, and threatening the rest with the same. They'd gone to bed, although Ryua suspected Draco's dorm room was still partying on.

It was probably a good thing Snape stopped them when he did, as none of them felt the least bit like getting up again the next morning. They had to, of course, and had to do the homework no one had paid attention to last night. Draco looked hung over, which was quite an accomplishment on Butterbeer alone. "Just how late did you boys stay up?" Ryua asked, eager for the excuse to ignore her Charms essay.

"Ungh."

"Well that's informative. Want me to do your Potions work?"

"Ungh," he said again, pushing his barely-started questions onto the table and curling up on one of the couches. Ryua grinned and pulled his homework on top of her un-cooperative essay. Ashley came over a while later and moved his legs over, slipping Ryua's essay out, and putting her own Transfiguration essay down instead. They did this a fair bit, editing each other's worst subjects, or in the worst cases, doing a fair bit of the work too.

"Ryua, has he been like that all morning?" Ashley asked, gesturing at Draco with her quill.

"Yep. Must've drunk an incredible amount of Butterbeer to be that hung over," she replied, setting down the Draco's finished questions and picking up Ashley's essay.

"Ah." Ashley set down Ryua's essay and walked over to the other coffee table. She poured a glass of water, came back, and started to poke Draco in the shoulder. "Come on, get up."

"Shaddup. You talk to loud…" he mumbled, trying to pull a pillow over his head.

"Up. I want you to drink all this water, and more if you can. It'll kill the headache, I promise." Ashley tossed the pillow behind her and pulled him up. Draco, willing to do just about anything to get rid of the headache, took the glass of water and downed half of it at once. "It'll take a while, but most of a hangover is just thirst. Drink enough water, and it'll go away. Just don't drink so fast you get an ice cream headache instead"

"…Thanks…" he said, sipping the water and staring blankly at the table.

"Eh, he'll revive in a while. Here's your essay, should be passable now."

"Thanks… and here's your Transfiguration, I think you're getting better."

"It'd be hard to get worse."

"Nah," Draco said hoarsely, then cleared his throat. "You could be as bad as Ryua is at Charms."

Ryua flicked a balled-up piece of parchment at him and serenely started writing her edited essay out.

Monday came around, and Ryua had just barely got everything done. They'd been pushing so hard with the quidditch the past four days that none of the team had done much in the way of homework. No Potions or Care of Magical Creatures, which meant she couldn't go bug her Gryffindor friends about Quidditch. And she had double DADA, which meant it was an incredibly awful day.

"I can't believe you did that," Draco said as they all filed out to lunch.

"Of course you can believe it."

"Well yes, but why…"

"Oh, she deserved it." Ryua had slammed her book closed during the section on curses and counter-curses, saying that these piddly little spells didn't deserve to be classed as a curse. Or words to that effect. Umbridge had risen to the challenge immediately, asking what Ryua, a fifteen-year old witch, thought she knew about it. Naturally, Ryua asked if she'd like a demonstration and without waiting for an answer, disintegrated an empty desk. Not vanished, not burned, not teleported or transformed, but a very advanced, painful curse that dissolved whatever the user wanted. Ryua had then swung her wand not quite to Umbridge and asked if she wanted another example.

"Well, I'm not going to argue with you on that point… but you really, really didn't need any more detentions. And since we're done quidditch for the year, she doesn't have to give you a weekday for that either."

"Oh, it's just for three weeks. I'll be fine."

"You're going to end up ruining your hands, you know."

"I'll be fine. And yes, I'll use the healing cream every night this time. Wonder what she'll make me write this time."

"You still have empty skin to write something new?"

"Yep! Left palm," Ryua said brightly, looking at it.

"… There's something wrong with you, you know that?"

Author's Note: I'm sorry, I was asked a couple chapters ago how to pronounce Ryua's name. It's Ree-you-ah. At least, that's how I say it, cause it sounds cool, I think.

I've been so busy, I'm sorry for not updating for so long. And my computer is freaking out on me, it doesn't always like to work…

It's mostly been dying on my drawing program, actually. But I have a few things up, so if you have some free time, please go take a look at www . mediaminer . org, under the FanArt section. My name is still Ryua. Please?


	31. More Detention

Someday, I will own something of great value. This will not be Harry Potter, as J K Rowling already owns it.

More Detention

Ryua sighed and set down her fork after her third piece of rhubarb pie. She was procrastinating, as she really, really didn't want to go to detention. It only made it worse that she knew very well that it was her own fault, but that didn't really change anything. She still had to go.

Umbridge was up in her office, looking faintly out of breath. _Hah. She must have had to run to get up here before me._ Ryua was going to take every bit of enjoyment she could get out of this evening, and so she walked up to the doily-covered desk and said very sweetly, "Oh, Professor Umbridge, you must be getting fit. You're barely out of breath after the long, grueling walk up here." Of course, the teachers all had a direct-access tunnel to their offices from the head table, so she had walked maybe 100 metres total.

Umbridge knew Ryua knew this, but since it was so nicely veiled as a compliment, her pudgy little brain couldn't come up with a comeback. Instead, she said, "Miss Malfoy, it's good to see you on time."

"Of course, Professor. Wouldn't miss it for the world."

"You know what you're here for?"

"Actually, no. I answered your question in class, to the best of my ability… and if you want to drag my previous… lessons… into this, I've been acting _exactly_ as befits my station." Ryua said, dropping to a low, slightly dangerous voice at the end. _Sometimes, having a slimy, no good Death Eater for a father is a good thing…_

Umbridge swallowed slightly, but regained her façade of calm sweetness quickly. "Well then, I think we'll just have to change the line for this round. To something it is impossible to misunderstand."

"Alright. I wasn't aware you had problems with words like 'befits', or 'station'."

Her face turned ugly, and she didn't bother to hide it this time. "You will write, 'I will be good'. Apparently you were not disciplined enough as a child, so I will go back to the most basic lessons."

_No discipline as a child? I wish I could give her a taste…_ Ryua couldn't keep the anger out of her voice as she grated, "I'm sure you'll want to set the quill to my left palm then, as it's the last one left clean."

That wasn't entirely true, as the scars across the backs of her hands looked to be fading now, but she wasn't about to tell Umbridge that. She had enough scars as it was, and words on her palms would be bad enough. Umbridge, being the lazy bitch she was, just told her to write with her left hand. Apparently, those beady little eyes didn't miss much that she deemed useful, and she'd seen Ryua using both hands before Christmas.

_Well, at least it's good practice… that's really kind of morbid. Automatically assuming I'm going to be incapacitated in the future…I can't believe I'm going to bear this scar for the rest of my life. How humiliating; I will be good. Honestly._ Ryua's mind tended to natter away while she did something like this. It was mindless, so simple that her hand and arm just took over and she didn't even have to think about it anymore. Her palm burned as she wrote; negligible pain, considering her wide range of experience. Mostly, she was bored. And itching to do homework too, the teachers didn't stop assigning it just because one student got detention.

_I will be good, I will be good… you'd better believe I'll be good. I'll be the best. I don't care what I do, I'll be the best at it. I'll be good, indeed… just not how you might like… _Death Eater, Auror, schoolteacher, freelance assassin, Quidditch player… a whole lot of jobs chased their way through her head that night, a surprising number of them illegal…

And the next day was the Job Fair. She'd completely forgotten about it until after lunch when everyone wandered aimlessly, released from classes for the rest of the day. Luckily, she had Snape as her career advisor, so it was a fairly open visit. "Well, I've got one huge career opportunity kind of… looming… maybe you could even say lying in ambush…"

"You don't have to join the Dark Lord, Dumbledore would give you asylum."

"Yeah, I know. He's really pretty great. So, if Harry and Dumbledore win the fight, or if I defect to their side… what do you think is a good career choice?"

"I would highly recommend defecting, by the way. You do not deserve the life of a Death Eater. Once you do… you have the skills to give a shot at just about anything. You might have difficulties getting into Auror training without your Charms, but you've proven you can work around them quite sufficiently. The way our school appears to be going, you could probably apply for Defense teacher…"

"Neville Longbottom could teach that course better than half the teachers we've had…"

"True." Snape grimaced, thinking about how low the standards had fallen. "I'd also say you should try for Quidditch, for as long as you are physically fit for the job. You could probably get into the national league by the time you graduate, especially if you keep your energy diverted into it like you have been."

"Yeah, that would be cool." Ryua stretched back a moment in her chair, imagining a life where she could make her own name, playing Quidditch for a living. "Would definitely be cool, actually."

"Then, I could advise stop getting these ridiculous detentions, as they are going to cripple your hands before long, and moving out as soon as possible. Oh, and keep up your studies, maintain your captaincy, and so on."

Ryua grinned, leaning forward. "I'll get right on that… I'm supposed to be good, don't you know."

"So I see," Snape said dryly, tracing a finger along her palm. "Just make sure you are good in the behavioral sense as well."

"What? Are you saying I behave badly? Okay, okay, maybe I've got a bit of a stubborn, stuck-up, proud pureblood thing going on here…"

"There is absolutely nothing wrong with being proud of who you are. In fact, it is unhealthy to bury your natural strengths. However, flaunting it, pushing your luck, _acting against authority…_"

"Alright, alright, I get it. You know, I never act up with you, or Dumbledore, or McGonnagall… you people actually deserve respect."

"I know the temptation. But that doesn't mean you can pick and choose, Ryua. You must pay attention to me on this."

"Nnnnnng… the worst part is I know very well that you're right…"

"Of course I'm right. Now go on, I have to try and council Crabbe into a job, may Salazar lend me strength…"

"Ouch. Good luck on that…" Ryua smiled and walked out, sending Crabbe in afterwards. She wandered aimlessly for a while, then saw Harry leaving another classroom and caught a glimpse of a rather satisfied looking McGonnagall behind him. "What's she so happy about?"

"Oh, McGonnagall? She got to badmouth Umbridge. Said something like how I've been good in every DADA class taught by a competent teacher…"

"Yes! Score one for McGonnagall!"

"Yeah. Should've seen her face, it was great. So, what career did you decide on?"

"Well… the one I want to do, or the one I'm probably going to get stuck with?"

"Stuck with? Oh. That. Well, what about what you actually want to do then? Always aim for the best, right?"

"Yeah, I guess." They walked down a corridor, Ryua checking to make sure they weren't seen. _Man, I'm getting paranoid… it's second nature now._ "I'm going to try for Quidditch, I think. My Charms mark isn't anywhere near good enough to be an Auror, and I do love flying…"

"I know what you mean. My Potions could be a problem… although McGonnagall also swore to do everything in her power to make sure I made it. Umbridge was really not having a good day…"

"Heh, always glad to hear that. Guess I'd better not be a Death Eater then, if you're going to be the one catching us."

Harry's cheeks went just the slightest bit pink, but he said, "Oh, I don't know. I wouldn't want to be stuck in a duel with you. Doubt I'd be the one bringing home the prisoner."

Ryua smiled, looking over at him. "Hopefully we'll never have to find out." She whipped her head around, then relaxed as a couple of Hufflepuff prefects came around the corner. "I love Hufflepuffs. They mind their own business, and they can't be easily made to sell information…"

"Yeah. Unlike Slytherins."

"Or Gryffindors. You're terrible for talking about things."

"Better than selling out."

"Eh. We're not all like that, and I remember one Gryffindor who was as slimy as the worst of us…"

"Right… Wish I'd let them kill that rat when they had the chance."

They didn't get to talk much more, as the next people to come around the corner were Pansy's flock. Ryua naturally slipped into her role of badmouthing Harry, going from what happened the years before they were friends to how he still couldn't tell the difference between Citrine and citrus.

"Convenient topic, that," Harry said quietly when they'd rounded another corner.

"Yeah. Not only does it help keep us secret, but you get your studying done as well!"

"Ugh… sometimes you're way to perky…"

Author's Note: Blaaaah! I don't like this chapter, but I have to finish the year off. And Artemis 64, are you still there? If not, would anyone else like to be my sounding board? Pretty please?

And please review, it helps give me motivation. It's hard to write when only one person reviews a chapter… it feels like no one cares. Maybe you're like me though, and have no internet access, or maybe you just don't like the story, or maybe you don't care… I have no way of knowing unless you tell me, right?

And, I'm still pushing my pictures too... so here's a link (minus the spaces, of course)

http:www .mediaminer . org / fanart / src . php / a / 106872

pretty please, review them too? I promise, I'm a half-decent artist.


	32. Trouble

Someday, I will own something of great importance. This will not be Harry Potter, as J K Rowling already owns that.

Trouble 

For the first time she could ever remember, Ryua was failing miserably at a Defense spell. "Expecto Patronum!" she said, very patiently, as she was trying to concentrate on good things. All around the Room of Requirements, silvery creatures capered about. A stag, an otter… but the most Ryua had been able to manage was a very pale silver wisp. She'd tried saying it loudly, quietly, excitedly, calmly, confidently, even pleadingly, and it still wouldn't work. She'd thought of the Christmas she and Draco had spent in Diagon Alley (too tainted by fear), the Christmas they'd spent in the Dominican (having to endure family meals, her father's reaction afterward), flying on a broomstick (usually accompanied by pain, worry, or wistful longing), her friends (worry they'd all be caught and killed)… the only thing that had even started to work was that memory of Harry, actually telling her that he liked her that afternoon in Potions class. And then it was overridden by the memory of Snape saying what would probably happen if either one of them was caught…

Ryua growled, looking over at the Creevy brothers who had twin German Shepards bounding around them, Hermione who was happily watching her otter cavort around, Chang, who was watching a swan serenely float around the room… although at least Neville and Ron seemed to be having as much trouble as anyone else. "Oy! Fred, what are you thinking of?" Ron bellowed at his brothers, who had two huge ravens tweaking the other Patronuses on the tail, ears, toes…

"Mum's blueberry pie!" Fred promptly bellowed back. His raven glowed bright silver, did a happy dance, and bit Harry's stag on the tail. Well, that's no help at all… Mother never cooked, and she's not the kind of person it makes me happy to think of them dead… For a minute, Ryua tried thinking of Lucius suffering a painful, drawn out death, but imagination didn't seem to work as well as memory. And it was too bloodthirsty, she supposed.

"So, what about Hermione?" Ryua asked, looking over at her.

"Hmm? Oh, that time my family all went skiing, and we got lost and found this ranger's cabin. We had hot chocolate, marshmallows, and soda crackers, but we had the best time…"

"Oookay…" Ryua tried her hardest to think of a happy family adventure, but they all seemed to be spoiled by Lucius at some point or other. "Aaaaargh! I just don't get it!"

"You need some happy memories, then." Harry said just behind her.

She spun around, and managed a sheepish grin. "Yeah. I'm notoriously short on those."

"Well… I could maybe help you with that…" Harry said quietly. A shiver went down her spine at his tone, but before she could reply, there was a tugging at her robes. "Dobby?" Harry asked, looking down at the house elf.

"Dobby is very sorry, Harry Potter, sir… Dobby didn't mean to tell… She made Dobby do it…"

"Her? Dobby, her? Who's her?"

"Umbridge," Ryua growled.

"Oh. Great." Harry looked back up, after forbidding Dobby to punish himself, and announced in a loud, carrying voice for everyone to get out. Of course, widespread mayhem ensued, although everyone did go in the direction of the door. "You too, Ryua. Especially you, she hates you even more than me."

"Alright, but you stay out of trouble." Ryua took off down the hallway, wand still held at the ready. She had appeared to have gone in the right direction, as the only people she saw were the Creevy brothers, about a thirty yards ahead. She was about to relax, when she heard heavy, labored footsteps coming down a side cooridor, accompanied by muttered curses in a sweet, girlish voice. With a rush of horror, she realized the fat creature would come barreling out right between the three of them, catching both her and the brothers. Saying a few nasty words of her own under her breath, Ryua looked at the brothers and the intercection ahead, gauging when Umbridge would be going too fast to stop… "Hey! What do you two brats think you're doing?" Ryua hollered at the top of her lungs. She drew back her wand just as Umbridge barreled into the corridor, and shouted, "Impedimetnia!" Umbridge whirled in her direction, just in time to catch the spell in her face, and the brothers got through a door into a boy's washroom without incident. Trying to school her expression into one not quite so gleeful, Ryua walked up to Umbridge. "Oh, Professor, I'm so sorry…"

Umbridge, shaking off the effects of her spell, glared up at Ryua. Ryua briefly tried to hide her amusement at seeing her struggling to get up off the floor, but gave up. Her face stayed straight, but there was no hiding the laughter that danced in her eyes. "You stupid little girl. I expect to see you every night…"

"For detention, I know, I know." Ryua sighed, but giggled as she watched Umbridge roll herself onto her feet. "And yes, I know, get to my dormitory immediately …" She left to the dungeon, both elated for having a chance to jinx the bitch, and slightly depressed to have another few weeks worth of detention. Oh well. It was worth it.

At breakfast, however, her good mood was completely wiped off the face of the earth when Umbridge stood up and announced that Dumbledore was on the run from the Ministry Aurors for founding a resistance group, and that she was now acting Headmistress. Ryua, interestingly enough, didn't get to speak up first. "Well doesn't that just suck." Ashley said, dropping her fork. "I thought I was in trouble before…"

"Whatcha do?" Ryua asked, looking over.

"Lost my temper in class, cursed her."

"Nice. Got her last night myself… completely by accident, of course."

"Of course. Looks like we'll be in detention together then."

Ryua sighed. "Yeah. Lucky us. Have you ever used one of those quills?"

"Nah."

"Lucky you. Well, I've got a good pile of healing cream, don't want you getting crippled."

"Or you."

Author's Note: Oh. Man. I'm really, really sorry people. This chapter was meant to be called Trouble, chapter 32. I had it twice as long, much better written… and I swear I updated it. That little message that I accidentally posted instead? It was just something I was trying to copy and paste this onto. I don't know what happened, but I'm really sorry. I can't remember what is supposed to be here, other than the partial draft I managed to save by fluke on my e-mail account, so this is the best I can do.

I promise I'll update more, as soon as I can get more written. I'm attending SAIT for the next 5 weeks though, which means lots of homework, and mostly dead brain cells. I can't give you any dates, much apologies.


	33. End of Year Five

Someday, I will own something of great importance.

This will not be Harry Potter, as J K Rowling already 

owns that. 

End of Year Five 

The next few weeks were, to put it mildly, rather 

hellish. For once in her life, Ryua was wishing the 

school year would end. At least at home, she had the 

chance to attack her problems… 

Now, she was stuck in the Slytherin dorm during much 

of her off hours, with no quidditch or DA meetings to 

occupy her. And when she wasn't there, she was with 

Umbridge, carving letters into the palm of her hand 

over, and over, and over… Ashley was there too for 

three weeks, although they didn't get to talk a whole 

lot. And then Ashley's detention was up, and Umbridge 

kept Ryua for pure spite. At the end of the month, 

Snape had fully intended to say something about it, 

but Ryua was adamant. "You and Draco are the only 

people left down here that I actually like, sir. If 

you try to go against her, you'll end up in Azkaban, 

probably, and then I'll really lose it." So Snape 

waited, brewing up the occasional potion strengthener, 

to boost Ryua's cream. 

Even with that, there were still definite lines etched 

into her skin. Ryua had noticed one day that on the 

palm, the scars were sunken, while on the backs they 

stayed up. _Man, that's morbid… you know you've got too_

_many old wounds when…_

Gryffindor won the cup, thanks to Ron's spectacular 

come about. And, being in Slytherin with Umbridge 

breathing down her neck, she couldn't even go to his 

celebration party. 

There was one good thing happening, though. With 

Dumbledore gone, various students and teachers decided 

to just let it all out. Even though the teachers 

couldn't talk to the students about anything except 

their subject, they were obviously rebelling. Sprout, 

after seeing Harry's box of mice for the Quibbler 

article, was now handing out candies in class. They 

were rather like those little sweet tarts, except for 

the messages, which read something along the lines of; 

"Down with Umbridge", "Silent Rebellion", "Dumbledore 

Forever!", and a couple obviously inspired by Fred and 

George, such as "Beat the Butterball", and, "Oust the 

Bitch!" 

McGonnagall was stubbornly teaching her students the 

same as ever, regardless of what Umbridge said. And, 

since she was smarter, older, and wilier, she always 

managed to find an older Ministry decree to support 

her for it. It was a real treat to see Umbridge balked 

at her own game… especially because McGonnagall seemed 

to be assigning less homework. 

Potions, even though Snape hated the Gryffindors as 

much as ever, was transformed. He was concentrating on 

poisons, hallucinogenic vapors, antidotes… anything 

that could possibly be useful on their DADA finals. 

And, as those who believed Dumbledore and Harry 

realized, whatever could help to make up for their 

lack of defensive instruction when the war broke out. 

And for the first time ever, Ryua was excelling in 

Charms. Flitwick had also thrown the more domestic 

charms out the window, and was concentrating on spells 

useful in a duel. Since it was her left hand that was 

in a permanent state of disability this time, Ryua was 

at the top of her form, charming people into 

immobility, confusion, floating, tickling… Flitwick 

was ecstatic to have finally made a breakthrough, and 

Ryua was thrilled to have a shot at passing her OWL… 

Care of Magical Creatures, on the other hand, was 

pretty awful. Grubblyplank was a good enough teacher, 

of course, but the Gryffindors' foul moods were 

catching. Not having Hagrid around just took a little 

something out of it. The danger, the excitement, the 

uncertainty… all the stuff that made the class so much 

fun, in Ryua's point of view. 

And then the OWLs, which had been looming over them 

since the first day, arrived. Or rather, the frail 

looking judges who were grading them did. Classes were 

suspended for the fifth and seventh years, and 

studying tripled. The written DADA was no problem, and 

neither was the practical, thanks to all the extra 

practice time. Neville was in the room at the same 

time as Ryua, and she was proud to see how much he'd 

improved. He'd be getting an EE, at the very least. 

And Harry's stag guaranteed him an O… and Draco wasn't 

nearly as good as he'd expected. Rusty skills… 

Potions was gleefully easy, Transfiguration went by 

without a hitch, Arithmancy, Care of Magical 

Creatures… the only one that really made her sweat was 

Charms, of course. And lucky her, her judge was a 

retired Auror, and had a penchant for dueling spells. 

There were still the required domestic ones (most of 

which Ryua failed miserably), but he seemed more than 

willing to balance it with the spells she did know. 

And then there was the Astronomy practical exam. Ryua 

was about three-quarters through when she heard the 

unmistakable sounds of a duel starting up. She jerked 

up, head whipping around to see if the Death Eaters 

had decided to come storming in and saw a jet of red 

light. Stunners… can't be Death Eaters then. By now, 

Harry and a handful of others had also looked over, 

and she heard him say, "They're going for Hagrid!" 

"No way," Ryua said, following him over to join Ron 

and Hermione at the terrace. Sure enough, illuminated 

by the light from his cabin and the wands of the 

wizards below, Hagrid was in a full raging fury. A 

rouge stunner hit Fang, which caused Hagrid to bellow 

and knock the erring wizard back ten yards or so with 

one hand. The spells sloughed off of him, probably 

because of the giant's blood (Idiots! Ryua muttered. 

So much for superior Auror training.) And then the 

doors to the Great Hall burst open and McGonnagall was 

rushing down the steps, wand raised, voice calling out 

clearly across the grounds. 

In the next instant, four stunners hit her square in 

the chest. Hermione screamed, and Ryua wasn't far from 

it. McGonnagall never came off as being a frail 

pushover, but Ryua knew that no one was invincible, 

and someone at her age couldn't take that much of a 

jolt. Instead, she turned around and pelted towards 

the hospital wing, just a little lower in the tower. 

She would have followed Pomfery down and blasted a few 

Aurors, but was (probably for the best) shoved 

hurriedly back up the stairs. 

She just cleared the top of the stairs again to see 

Hagrid disappearing into the Forest, Fang slung over 

his shoulder. The shocked OWL judge shook himself and 

announced, "Two minutes test time…" but rather 

quietly, knowing no one was paying the least bit of 

attention. 

The next two days saw Ryua spending a lot of time 

asleep or getting the last bit of quidditch practice 

in that she could, and of course, the never ending 

detentions. And then one afternoon, when Ryua had just 

come in from an exhilarating flight, she saw a sobbing 

Hermione leading Harry and Umbridge into the Forest. 

She was about to follow when she heard Draco's voice 

echoing down a corridor. And he sounded far too 

cheerful to mean any good for anyone else. So Ryua 

slinked up the hall, easing around Umbridge's office 

door. 

There were three DA members, under watch of the 

Inquisitorial Squad. Draco held a fistful of wands, 

and his own pointing casually at each of the 

Gryffindors. Ryua, not hesitating in the slightest, 

quietly said, "Expelliarmus!" 

The result was utter mayhem. Ginny, Neville, and Luna 

all made a mad scramble for their wands, Luna calmly 

breaking Crabbe's nose, Neville and Ron expertly 

stunning the two by the window, and Ginny setting off 

a truly exceptional bat bogey curse… in fact, it made 

Ryua's nose itch to watch it. Instead, she calmly 

picked up Harry and Hermione's wands and said, "Shall 

we go then? And would someone tell me what's going on? 

And while we're at it… could you teach me that spell, 

Ginny?" 

"Good timing," Ginny said, jogging down the corridor. 

"Hermione's got Umbridge thinking that Dumbledore made 

a weapon of some sort, and is hiding it in the 

forest…" 

"So now they're in the forest, without wands!" Ron 

said, obviously worried. "And I have no clue what 

she's up to!" 

"Lovely." Ryua picked up the pace. She knew Harry and 

Hermione could take care of themselves, but that was 

with wands… 

And they'd just gotten a hundred or two yards in when 

they saw the two of them hurrying back, covered in 

blood. 

"Blimey, what happened to you two?" Ron drew to a 

halt, aghast. 

"Hmm? Oh, the blood. That's Gropp's." Hermione said, 

taking her wand from Ryua. 

"What's a Gropp?" Neville asked, panting. 

"Hagrid's big brother," Harry said, trying to wipe his 

glasses on his bloodstained robes. Ryua took them and 

did it for him as he said, "Hagrid told us in the 

middle of your quidditch game, Ron. We'll fill you in 

later." 

"Could anyone tell me what's going on?" Ryua asked, 

handing Harry his glasses and wand. 

"Voldemort's got Sirius in the Department of 

Mysteries." 

Ryua whistled. "And with most of the decent teachers 

gone… did you tell anyone?" 

"Yeah, well… sort of. I don't know if Snape understood 

or not, I wasn't about to say it in front of Umbridge 

and the Squad." 

"So, we'll go get him," Ron said, although he looked 

rather pale. 

And how are we supposed to get to London?" Hermione 

asked, tapping her foot. 

"Those…" Luna said, pointing at a Thestral nibbling on 

Harry's sleeve. Harry jumped, then a grim smile 

stretched across his face. 

"Whats? I don't see anything," Ron said, still 

clueless. 

"Thestrals, Ron." Ryua said, steering him towards 

another one. "They're wonderful creatures really. Just 

tell you where you want to go, and they'll take you 

there. I really have to get one…" 

"Okay." Neville set his jaw and awkwardly climbed up 

on a Thestral licking Hermione's back. 

"No. Just the three of us." 

"What? There's no way three of you can take on a whole 

load of Death Eaters!" Ryua said, stunned. 

Yeah, you aren't leaving us," Ginny flatly stated, 

looking incredibly like Fred and George. 

"Yes, we are. I'm not getting you four in trouble." 

"Too late, Harry." Neville said, having guided Ginny 

onto a Thestral. "We're coming." 

Harry looked helplessly from face to face, finally 

settling on Ryua, sitting like an Amazon cavalry 

warrior on her Thestral. "You stay, Ryua." 

What? Have you lost your mind, Potter? You need me, 

and there's no way I'm not following." 

"Ryua, think about this. Your life's dangerous enough 

as it is. If your father, or Voldemort finds out where 

you are, you're screwed." 

"I don't CARE!" Ryua snarled back, glaring at him. 

"I'm not letting you go off against them, they'll kill 

you. I know exactly what they're capable of, Harry." 

"Ryua… Harry's right," Hermione said hesitantly. "If 

you get caught attacking Death Eaters, with Harry…" 

"What. What? They'll kill me? Who gives a damn?" Ryua 

said, seething. Her Thestral danced under her, sensing 

the high tension in its rider. 

"I do." Harry said, firmly. "You're staying here." 

"And how do you propose to make me? Stun me, and I'll 

be helpless in this forest." 

"Hermione, Thestrals go wherever you tell them, 

right?" 

Uh… yes." 

"Okay. Silencio." Harry said, pointing his wand. 

Ryua's eyes flew wide, blazing with fury. She started 

calling him things that probably were better off 

muted, but was helpless to do anything. Sure, if she 

tried hard enough, she could probably curse a couple 

of them, but what would be the point in that. "I'm 

really sorry, Ryua, but you're not coming. Talk to 

Snape, let him know." 

_Snape? Why the hell does he want me to talk to Snape?_

_Surely he knows Snape's a Death Eater by now…_ Ryua 

watched helplessly as the other six told their 

Thestrals the destination and disappeared through the 

trees. Silently growling, she slid off her mount and 

took off at a dead run. She was far enough out that it 

was faster to stop at the broom shed than go directly 

to the school. For a moment, she considered flying 

after them, but realized she didn't have a chance of 

tailing them without knowing the route. Instead, she 

shot off to the school grounds, searching the walls 

for an open window on her way. 

Dumbledore's office window was wide open. Considering 

it had been impenetrable since he left, it seemed like 

something she ought to investigate. Inside was Snape, 

talking to Professor Lupin in the fireplace. Ryua 

glided in, and jumped to the floor with as much noise 

as possible, considering she couldn't make much else 

in the way of sound. Snape whirled around, looking 

terrified, then relaxed when he saw her. "Ryua? What 

are you doing here? Why is there blood on your hand?" 

Ryua just stared, tapping her foot impatiently. 

Snape's face cleared, and he undid the charm. "Harry, 

Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny, and Luna Lovegood have 

all taken off on Thestrals to the Ministry of Magic to 

rescue Sirius Black!" Ryua burst out in one breath. 

"And Harry told me to come and tell you. Now, I know 

he hates you, and he knows you're a Death Eater. So 

would you PLEASE tell me what is going on? Oh, hello 

Professor," Ryua added calmly. 

" Hello Ryua. Snape? It's your call. You're the 

closest thing to a guardian the girl has. I'll take 

care of things here." Lupin disappeared in a wash of 

flame, leaving Ryua and Snape standing in the empty 

office. 

"Sir?" Ryua asked, rather demanding now. 

"By rights, Ryua, I should wipe your memory now. It 

could save your life…" 

He was cut off by Ryua's wand pointed at his throat. 

"Listen, sir, I've been having a very frustrating day, 

where people start to tell me something, and then 

charm me so they don't have to answer. Well, I want 

some bloody answers! I'm tired of people treating me like a little kid!" 

"Alright. Alright," he said, carefully lowering her 

wand. "I want you to know that what I'm about to tell 

you could make life exceedingly difficult for you… and 

me. Even if you choose for me to wipe your memory 

afterwards, that can be broken through if he suspects 

anything, do you understand?" at her nod, he took a 

deep breath and continued. "I'm not a Death Eater. At 

least, not anymore. I'm a spy. I'm a member of 

Dumbledore's answer to the Dark Lord's inner circle, a 

secret organization. Harry, Hermione, and the whole 

Weasley clan have known since summer. I didn't tell 

you because…" 

"No, that I understand. So… there's someone going 

after them?" 

"Yes. As much of the Order as can be mustered. Only 

myself and the other member teachers will stay. 

"Huh. Well. That's… huh. That explains a few things." 

"Like?" 

"Like how Dumbledore trusts you, went to bat while you 

were on trial, why Harry told me to find you, and not… 

Pomfery or someone." 

"Hmm. Hopefully, no one else begins to suspect, or my 

life is forfeit. With luck, Dumbledore will kill me 

first." 

Ryua grimaced. "So… we just have to wait?" 

"Yes." Snape sighed. "We wait." 

It was an incredibly long wait. Hours crawled by, and 

they both waited in Dumbledore's office the whole 

time. It was the site of the only secure floo place, 

Fawkes' favorite spot, and the one place no one would 

think or be able to look for them. They didn't talk 

much, their thoughts in the Department of Mysteries, 

wondering, hoping… 

And then the fireplace flared up green, and an 

exhausted, tear-streaked Harry fell into Ryua's arms. 

She shifted him into a chair, looking back for anyone 

else, but the fire died down again. "What happened, 

Harry? Where are the others?" 

"Hospital wing, I think," he mumbled. Snape turned on 

his heel and went there. 

"What happened?" Ryua asked, sitting on another chair. 

"…A trap… Death Eaters everywhere, Hermione out, Luna 

out, Ron out, Ginny out… Just me and Neville by the 

end, thought we were dead… Then… they came… with… 

with…" Harry couldn't finish, he couldn't force the 

next words past his throat. He was completely still, 

just the slightest tremors in his fingers. Ryua 

recognized it as stress, the special kind of stress 

you get after pain, fear, loss… all the worst things 

rolled into one ordeal. 

Unfortunately, she had no idea what to do to make it 

better. Usually, she and Draco just patched each other 

up, and generally fell asleep right after. Harry 

didn't have any obvious cuts or curse marks… and he 

looked like he'd never be able to sleep again, 

exhausted as he obviously was. Awkwardly, she held his 

hand, wishing she could do something more to help. 

When the fireplace flared up again, Ryua placed 

herself between Harry and the fire, wand pointed at… 

Dumbledore's long, white beard. "Ryua, I promised 

Harry I would speak with him now, and I have very 

little time to waste. Please go to the hospital wing, 

or wait at the bottom of my stairs for him." 

It wasn't like Dumbledore to be so… abrupt, but Ryua 

went anyway. It probably was one of those things she 

really shouldn't hear if she expected to live the 

summer out. But she did wait at the bottom of the 

stairs, glaring at whoever happened by. They all sped 

on their way, without bothering to look twice. Once 

glance was enough to ascertain her mood. 

Harry walked listlessly out from behind the gargoyle, 

and Ryua gently pulled him up to the hospital wing. 

_Looks like I'll have to wait…_ She was completely 

distracted, anyway, when she got into the wing and saw 

the condition of her other friends. Hermione and Luna 

were deathly pale, lying perfectly still, but with 

their faces uncovered, signifying they were still 

alive. Ron was also unconscious, but twitching as if 

with bad dreams, and covered in weals even Ryua 

couldn't recognize. Ginny was walking carefully over 

to help Harry to a bed, tired but in one piece. 

Neville was sitting on the end of his bed, his front 

soaked in blood, with Madam Pomfery fixing a 

spectacularly broken nose. "By the Four, what 

happened?" 

Having been shooed away by Madam Pomfery, Ginny came 

over to Neville's bed, where Ryua had also sat down. 

And between the two of them, they managed a fairly 

complete version of events. 

"Well." Ryua said, and then couldn't think of anything 

to follow. 

"Yeah. Aah… sorry about landing your various family 

members in Azkaban, Ryua," Neville said nervously. 

"Eh, good riddance. Draco and I'll have the run of the 

house now. It should actually make for a decent 

summer… until Voldemort breaks them out of Azkaban, of 

course." 

"Yeah. Hey, if that happens, come over to my place," 

Ginny said, "Just floo there, or something, we're at 

the Burrow. We don't' have a whole lot of room, but 

Mum'll always take in another kid." 

"Thanks…" Ryua said, glancing back over at the four 

sleeping students. "Hope they'll be alright." 

"Yeah. It was a long night." 

"I wish I could have helped you…" 

"No you don't. If Lucius was that mean to just regular 

kids, I can't imagine what he'd have done to you," 

Neville said, looking over at them. 

"Poor Harry. The first family he'd ever really had…" 

Ginny said quietly. Ryua knew she was thinking about 

her own family, her brother so close to death… 

"Yeah." Ryua really couldn't imagine. She'd never been 

really close enough to people to really miss them when 

they were gone. Narcissa… nope. Lucius? Hell, she'd 

kill him herself, given half a chance. Aunt Bella? The 

Crabbes or Goyles? Not really… "I should go. It's 

probably not a good choice to be hanging around here…" 

"Yeah, I guess. We'll let you know…" 

"Thanks…" It wasn't until she was down into the 

dungeon levels that she realized just how terrified 

she was that Harry wouldn't last the night… "Shit. I 

am not falling for the Boy Who Lived. I'm not, I'm 

not, I'm not…" 

Author's Note: I actually sort of like this one, 

unlike the last four or so. Not perfect… but it's 

getting there, it's getting there (and I just noticed 

it's 7 pages…). Thanks, JeannieBeannie, for letting me 

know someone still cares if I exist… And sorry if the formatting is messed up. I can only type on one computer, but it won't let me access or hotmail. So, I have to copy it into my yahoo email, send it to my hotmail, copy and paste to a word document, save it on this computer, and then I can upload it... all because floppy disks aren't compatable with the laptop... Ah, maybe I'll fix it, someday, if I ever figure out how! 


	34. End Note

Aaaaah… Hi. I really have updated a new chapter, Chapter 32: Trouble. See the Author's note at the bottom.

And, since I forgot on the last chapter, this is the end of this part (just so my computer loads the screen properly). I'll be starting Part Three whenever I get the chance.


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